May I
by theonlyxception
Summary: After Gillian is hurt while on the job: tempers will flare, lines will be crossed, friendships will be tested, and even love might ensue-if they can survive everything first.
1. Taking It All In

"Doctor Foster. I've heard you're anxious to get out of here." His tone took on a teasing manner, but held a deeper concern as he looked her over, holding her chart in one hand and started writing down some discharge information on the paper.

Nodding her head in a circled form, she gazed out her room window, using the bustle of the hospital as a momentary distraction. She heard him take in an almost uncomfortable breath of air that had her reading his expression. "I can understand that you're uncomfortable discharging me so soon, but I need this." She knew by the slight irritated expression she caught right after, that she had gotten to him.

"Yes, well usually we hold you for observation after a traumatic event, but since I really have no reason to actually hold you, other than for observation—then I see no reason that you can't be released. Do you have somebody that could stay with you for awhile, at least while you're healing?"

She thought for a moment. Alec was out of the picture. And well Cal, he would always be there for her that was a clear fact. She felt the ever need to get back and support him. Not only that, but she was sure that she was in distance of him, he would calm her fears. Make the flashbacks that haunted her mind, and made her feel lost and confused, disappear.

Without a doubt, Cal would show her new faith in his ability to put this man away in jail—and she was going to be there to see it.

"Dr. Foster?" Shaking her head, Gillian realized she had drifted off. "Do you have somebody that could stay with you?"

Adjusting, she cleared her throat. "Yes, I have someone." At least that was a half lie, but he wouldn't know that. In fact, she was thinking about sleeping on the couch in her office.

He studied her for a moment; his expression bordering disapproving and thoughtfulness. as he finally clicked his pen and stuffed it back into his pocket. "Okay then, I'll instruct the nurse to go over the rest of the discharge information with you. And I expect you to take it easy over the next few days."

"Thanks." Gillian said softly, turning to gather up all her belongings and slipping off the bed carefully. She gathered her clothes and went into the bathroom. It was only after she had shut the door that she truly felt alone.

With her head against the wall, she scrubbed one hand across her face. Each of the four walls was lined with forest green tiles. And the wall she was facing, there was a simple wood-framed mirror, which seemed to reflect every scratch and bruise that happened to be forming on her body.

Inching forward, she thought about taking a closer look, but then decided it more important to change out of the most uncomfortable gown that she had been wearing for the last couple hours. Although it was hard to put her jeans and shirt—she managed to get everything on, just as someone knocked on the door.

Usually she wouldn't have jumped at such an action, but after her attack she felt aware and cautious of her surroundings. "I'll be right out." She called to the person waiting outside the door. It occurred to her how her voice had trembled slightly at the words—or how her body began to ache with every small motion, like unlocking the door to the bathroom.

When Gillian came back into the room, she let her shoulders fall in relief at the nurse who had been waiting for her. With her sandy blonde hair and soft blue eyes, Natalie was standing behind a wheelchair. "I hear you're ready to go." Gillian gave a nod; reminding herself that it was hospital policy to be wheeled out of the hospital. As she sat down, Gillian was informed of all the discharge information that she would need to know before leaving. "Do you have anyone that could take you home—or should I call a cab?"

"A cab would be great." Gillian told her quietly, as she reached over and gathered her purse from the edge of the bed; letting it rest in her lap.

"A cab it is." She flashed Gillian a reassuring smile, before turning towards the door. "I'll be right back." The nurse offered, exchanging a glance as she left the room.


	2. Not Going Home

Home; one's place of residence. Usually comforting, but not tonight. The thought of actually going home to a darkened, empty place was enough of an excuse not to go home. Being at home, tempted the haunting thoughts over and over again of how he hit her, knocking her on the ground and dragging her on the asphalt.

As she paid her cab fair, a chill ran through her just as the wind picked through her hair. She got out and entered the Lightman Group office building moments later. There was no doubt, that the almost deserted looking area was not deserted at all.

In fact, she was sure of it.

But a part of her was glad that there was no one there to ask questions at the moment. No questions had to be asked, nor did they have to be answered. She could sit in her office for a moment in peace…before she had to answer to him though: Cal Lightman, her partner in crime; otherwise known as Clyde, for she was his Bonnie.

In fact Cal was one of the smartest and a most chance taking man that she had ever met, or worked with in her life. He could be so task oriented and focused that sometimes she wondered what was going through that head of his. Sometimes she knew that she didn't want to know.

However, tonight-tonight he had shown compassion, love, worry. It was a slight blur of a night, but what she remembered was trying to get away from his grasp, her whole body shaking, and tears running down her cheeks. And then there was him grabbing her and holding her close, almost rocking her in an undeniable comfort that she had relented and wrapped her arms around his neck.

That's what she remembered—after the point of her leaning into his him, she felt her heart beating wildly in her chest. Red and blue sirens bounced around the city like it was some kind of festival. And then it all went black.

Gillian sighed, letting her purse drop beside her onto the fabric couch in her office, like it was a heavy brick weighing her down. She almost felt the comfort wrapping into her as she sunk into it. Suddenly she felt very tired, the more she sat there and she realized that she couldn't sit there for long, and she knew there would be time for that later where she felt safest.

She got up and embraced meeting the stares of her colleagues when she walked in, but she sure as heck was not going to hide in here. At least not yet-not until she was alone. For right now she was going to be in control. For she was not only going to have to face her colleagues, but stare through the glass at the man who was responsible for her being attacked tonight.

In some ways she felt like she was walking in a big round circle as she got up and walked down the hall. She entered quickly and was only noticed by maybe the guards at the most. Gillian caught most of the last part of Eli and Ria's discussion about Cal having played them, and her own voice breaking through had surely caught them off guard.

It all felt loud and sure as it echoed off the walls. In a way it caught her off guard too and she was the one speaking. But she reminded herself that she was in control. That this was her doing what she needed to do; being a part of the team and working the case until it was finished.

"The long con." Gillian offered. Ria tuned her gaze toward me, her eyes wide. She couldn't believe that I was here. "One of Lightman's favorite moves." Now my voice didn't feel so loud.

"You knew." Stating, Ria turned her whole body towards me. She stared even further, but Gil knew that Torres could read her expression, and now that she was telling the truth. Gillian shrugged, even though her whole body was beginning to hurt from being jolted.

"No, I didn't." As sympathetic as she was being, Gillian hadn't known what Cal was up to. He always had some trick up his sleeve, and as far as they knew, that was just Cal being Cal.


	3. Contemplating the Line

So far to the point to the walls that defined him were both closed and open. His demeanor was focused, yet as he looked at her, the dams that kept in every emotion inside of him, broke open the instant he locked eyes on her.

He knew that look; the look of determination. Yet he couldn't help but focus on the fact that she also looked so broken. It wouldn't shake as he looked away, as he convicted the people who were behind the attacks. And when he got back, started to wrap everything up and packed up to go home, he saw the light on in her office and the line between them started to fade, but stood firm as he stood by the glass door and looked curiously in.

Knowing that she worried about him, he wanted her to know that he worried about her just as much, but that blasted line held wonders and boundaries that couldn't be crossed. Or could they? Would this one time when they would have to just deal with it and step over that line? Or did he just wish that at some point he would have to?

Peering in, he finally spotted her lying on the couch, looking so peaceful, yet he couldn't help but let a small smile slip from his lips. He went into his office, grabbed a blanket that he had just lying around and slipped back into her office.

She hadn't moved an inch, and she had the right not to. She was exhausted, both physically and mentally. He would have taken her home and tucked her in, if she wanted him to. In fact he would have picked her up and carried her if she hadn't physically been able to walk.

But there was that line again, the one that stood firm; that stood for respect between them. So for now he unfolded the blanket and draped it over her body, turned and shut off the light to her office.

When he arrived the next morning, he was on his way to his own office and curiously peered through the door of her office, expecting to see Gil still lying on the couch and sleeping peacefully.

But her office was empty.

The sun shining through the blinds reflected the emptiness; shining throughout the room, and particularly landing on her office chair, on the couch and the blanket that had been folded over once and draped over the middle of the couch.

Cal pressed his lips together, raising his shoulders in one short shrug before continuing down the hall. He had talked to the doctor who had treated her as he had left the hospital last night. Now, he wasn't saying the doctor wasn't right in her needing to take it easy for awhile, but then again Cal knew that Gil had her own agenda.

-

Gillian woke up early, just as the sun was touching in the sky. She stretched with her free hand and it took a moment to realize where she was, where she was sleeping, and that there was a blanket draped over her body.

She must have fallen asleep before everybody had left last night. Either that she would have to go with the idea that she had sleepwalked over to Cal's office, and stolen his blanket. The thought had her chuckling softly, and thinking of Linus and Lucy from the Charlie Brown comics.

Sitting up, she felt her body ache, and so did her head. She contemplated going home and showering before everybody got here. In fact she wasn't supposed to be here. The case had been wrapped up last night, so frankly-beside the paperwork that was stacking up on her desk—she had no real excuse to be here. Well besides the one where she was too afraid to go home alone.

But at least she would go home and at least shower. She felt safer in broad daylight than she did at night, and it might help her head and body if she went home for a little while.

So she grabbed her keys, opened the door to her office, and stepped out in the clothes that she had worn yesterday.

With the sun on her side, she took her time getting home and when she had finally pulled into her garage, waiting until it was closed was when she finally unbuckled her seat belt and stepped out.

Her keys dangled in her hand as she walked up the stairs to the door. And every sound seemed more defined and echoed within her eardrums as she unlocked the door and walked in. Heart pounding in her chest she let out a breath of relief as her heels clicked along the wooden floor.

She went past the kitchen and living room, turning down the hall to her bedroom. Opening the door with one motion, she left it open while ruffling through her dresser, and then her closet. She laid them all out on the bed, took off her sling; careful to cradle her arm in the process as she made her way to the bathroom and closed the door.

When she had finished showering, dressing and beautifying, Gillian found that she still had time to be early and get back over to the office in time before Cal got there. At least he didn't have to know that she had slept there all night, but in some ways he would know sooner or later. She was a terrible liar, and he knew it. He would use it to his advantage in every way he could find that he could, beside the line that had been drawn.

As she grabbed her keys and slipped her sling back on, she thought about it more. Cal went through rules like they were hot. He too respected the line-and the fact that they needed their own space as colleagues—but would that really stop him from stepping over the line? And what would end up happening if he did?

Shaking her head, she shook the thought from her mind as she made her way across the house once more, and out to the garage. But one more stray thought made it through as the garage door was going up and she stepped into her car.

_Would he?_

-

Arriving back at the office, the atmosphere was still very quiet from the night. She stepped back in, listening to the silence. Reynolds was there, along with Ria. They were going over a case, probably for today, but guess she would find out what it was.

Reynolds handed the file over to Ria, his movement following hers. "Hey, Gillian" His expression was all rolled into one. His tone inflicted a "how are you?" His expression showed concern, relief and worry seeing her there.

Gillian stopped and turned. "Whatever you're about to say, it'd better case related." She smiled with warning that told him that she was fine and not to go any further than that. He relented with a sigh. "It is, come on. Ria and I will fill you in."


	4. Icing On the Cake

It was a good whole thirty minutes before Cal walked into the conference room.

She had seen him walk past earlier, but he hadn't stopped there, but more to the side, just across from her office. She realized how curious he looked, and all she could do was shake her head and focus back on the task at hand.

When he walked in, he looked like he had just broken from his thoughts, but she couldn't help what he was up to. Usually he was focused and ready to dive into a case, but today there was something different as he looked at her.

And he sure tried not to. He tried his hardest to glance at her when he thought she didn't notice. When he sat beside her at the table to start the briefing, they shared an exchange; worry. But he didn't say anything. She tried not to let the thought get to her, but when Cal was silent, he was up to something.

"We'll start with interviewing the person in charge." He finally spoke up. "In the mean time we need to find anything that might tell us what we need to know."

Ria nodded with a bit of confusion. "Okay. We'll get right on that." She signaled to Eli and they left the room, which left Gil and Cal alone.

He studied her for a moment, and then pushed his chair in with one hand; like he was dunking a basketball into the hoop. "You, are with me."

She sighed, following his lead. "How long are you going to do this?" He looked back at her as they continued to walk down the hall to the front door.

"I'm just trying to figure something out."

"Which is?"

"How long we're going to pretend you're not going to be sleeping on your couch."

Gil dismissed it quickly with a short smile, her hand waving back and forth as they walked. _Oh he was good. That and he was reading her thoughts again. _"Cal…"

Looking at her, his expression softened. "Sorry. That does seem to come a bit naturally, doesn't it?"

She lifted her head up in a laugh. "Cute. Now you're just trying to be charming."

Nodding, he inquired. "Is it working?" Cal was doing that adorable grin with his mouth open a bit; the corners lifting up to the slightest degree.

Everything seemed normal.

She joked lightly with him about sleeping on her couch, but he hadn't really expected her to answer him. There was still hurt in her words. That it was too soon for them to be talking about this.

But it wasn't normal.

He had sat in front of his computer for a good half an hour, just going over the office footage from last night. He finally got to the part where she had walked out of her office early this morning.

That was what worried him.

Usually it took awhile for things to sink in. He had even lain in bed for quite awhile thinking about it. Yes, he knew the expressions and could read people pretty well, especially Gillian. Even though he wasn't supposed to, he kept his thoughts somewhat to himself, so he wasn't always crossing the line. But this time, this time it was different.

She meant everything to him, and she was hurt. Kept everything inside, but didn't ever really want to talk about it. He had his way of dealing with his, but she didn't. He knew what it was like to be disappointed, to lose what he had, and she had lost trust in that.

Sure she trusted him to an extent that she didn't for anyone else. But there was too much inside for her not to feel trapped, and this latest fiasco that happened last night might just be the icing on the cake.

It was around nine A.M., when Cal and Gillian had reached the house of Frank and Georgia Cole. They walked through the vine-winded arches, and stood at a double-oak door with half-oval windows.

Those doors opened just moments after ringing the doorbell once. "Mrs. Cole." A lady probably in her late fifties with blonde curly hair specked with white appeared with a phone to her ear.

"Looks like I'm going to have to call you back." She addressed the person she was talking to on the phone. She pressed the end button blue and dropped her hand to her side. "Who's asking?"

"I'm Cal Lightman, and my colleague, Gillian Foster."

"So you're the one who left that message on my machine." She nodded towards Cal. For the first time since arriving, they saw the half-empty glass of wine in her hand.

"Don't mind my drinking—come in." Opening the door to let them pass through, she swallowed the rest of her drink hastily, and closed the door behind them. "I was just having an afternoon drink to calm my nerves. My husband isn't usually gone this long."

"How long has he been gone?"

"Since yesterday morning. He likes to hike up the trail behind our house-every morning." Georgia led them into an open living room. "Please, sit." She motioned to the brown leather couch, and turned to refill her glass of wine in the kitchen.

"Mrs. Cole—"

"Please, call me Georgia. I feel like an old lady when I'm called Mrs. Cole."

Gillian nodded at her request. "It sounds like your husband knows the trail well then."

She gazed at her with piercing, blue eyes. "Yes, well he should." Sitting down in a light red chair, she gestured for them to sit down as well. "We've lived her for a little over five years."

"And Brent Jackson knew the trail just as well as your husband, didn't he. . .Mrs. Cole?" Cal tilted his head to the side in interest, focusing more on her changed expression. Just at the mention of _Brent Jackson_, her eyes had flicked with anger. Even her fists had clenched and unclenched to the slightest degree.

"What about him? He was my husband's business partner."

"You see, that's where you're wrong. Brent, also having been your husband's best friend; not just a business partner."

"Yeah, they've been best friends from high school. Are you implying that my husband had something to do with his murder?"

Cal gave her an innocent look. "I'm not trying to imply anything, because your facial expressions and body language just gave me everything that I needed to know." With that, he stood up, pursed his lips."We'll see ourselves out, yeah?" He nodded at Gillian. She got the message because she stood and began following him to the door.

"What are you thinking?" She inquired, after he had closed the door to the house. He was already bounding down the steps and rounding the corner, towards the back of the house where the trail began.

It didn't take him long to answer her as he paced along the trail. "I'm thinking that our loving wife isn't saying where her husband really is."

"But you don't think he has anything to do with this." She stated, more than questioning. Wincing slightly as she pushed her tired body forward—glad that she was pulling behind him, instead of walking right beside him like she usually did whenever they were working on any particular case.

He lessened the pace as he walked, momentarily glancing back at her. "No. I think the husband knows of the murder. There was mud on the shoes she was wearing, which means she was either digging in the mud or walking the trail alongside her husband."

She tipped her head up in recognition, and they continued walking through the grassy lawn, up towards a trail that wound around to a cave like dwelling. It was hard to see what was actually down there, that Cal squinted. What he saw looked like one big white blob.

"Call the paramedics, would you love? It seems like we've found the loving husband." With that he hopped into the cave, while Gillian reached into her purse and dialed for an ambulance.

They were two different people, with a lot of chemistry between them. He had Emily every single day of his life, and in her heart she had Sophie.

He sat in her office later that day; one picture frame remained from the many that had sat there on her desk when she had been married to Alec. In curiosity, he turned the frame around to see Gillian holding a beautiful little girl. He saw the same woman sitting behind her desk today, having a conversation with Reynolds about the case they were working on.

"Thanks, I'll tell him." Gillian spoke up, her eyes flickered up to him and then she hung up the phone.

She took in a deep breath."According to Reynolds, our Frank Cole is not in very good shape. His injuries range from being beaten, a broken leg and a gash to the head."

"But he's awake, right?" She gave a nod. "Then let's go see what he can tell us."

Frank Cole.

Brown hair. Brown eyes. Has been married to Georgia Quinn Cole for almost thirteen years; business partner to Brent Jackson for the past five years.

"Mr. Cole, I'm Cal Lightman." He introduced after knocking briefly on his hospital room door. "My partner, Gillian Foster.

"Frank. With that, I assume you're here to ask me questions about Brent. He was my partner and friend for the past five years. What do you want to know?"

"Yeah…we are actually." Cal offered, pulling up two seats near the bed; one was for him, the other for Gillian. "Tell me, what were you thinking when you were walking around in the hills yesterday morning?"

"I'd tell you that I was worried about a friend." Sighing, Frank went on. "About a year ago, I found this old dirt trail and had gone on it several times. I took Brent up there once or twice when we decided to get away more from our work."

"Does your wife know about this trail?"

"I told her about it once. She thought it was great that we were spending more than just business time together, why? What does my wife have anything to do with Brent's disappearance?"

"Because when we were talking with your wife earlier today, she expressed anger whenever we mentioned your name and total disgust when we mentioned Brent's."

Frank looked away, groaning. "We've had our share of arguments as a couple, trust me. But if you think she had anything to do with Brent's disappearance. They had some disagreements as well, but nothing that could make her want to hurt him. "

"Nothing but genuine sincerity." Cal offered freely to no one in particular, upon reading Frank's expression.

She wished that she could make time move slower.

Since they had gotten back from the hospital and talked to Frank, she paid particular attention to the lack of sun that was shining behind the blinds in her office, even though they were closed. She sat with the chair turned, eyes closed, just thinking about everything.

One thing that was the most on her mind was that it was mid afternoon now, and even in the safety of her office, she dreaded it being evening once more. Because when she closed her eyes, nothing could prepare her—or anybody else in that matter, for what she saw in her dreams.


	5. Dreams

She found herself running down a dark alley, kind of similar to the place she had been attacked. Except she was the one running down the alley after an unknown man, not the other way around. In fact, she knew that feeling that was in the pit of her stomach: it was the mother's instinct kicking in fully when she saw Sophie peering over his shoulders wailing.

The sight of her daughter, only made her run faster-the adrenaline coursing through her veins on the same beat as her feet pounding against the asphalt. _Thump, thump, thump._ Both were deafening in her ears, the closer she got to him.

Yet oddly enough, all she could hear was her daughter's cry—and then there was nothing as they rounded the corner of the alley. Gill found that she was standing there all alone, but more of a familiar setting this time.

This time as she looked back, she found that she was staring right at the hooded person who had knocked her to the ground a few days ago. He wore no mask that would hide his expression; instead she found that his lips held a menacing smile.

Seeing his face clearly for the first time, truly sent chills down her spine. She found that she could not move or run away from him, despite how much she tried to pull away from the hands that grasped around her body and pulled her closer.

Her whole body emitted a shiver from the cold wind that had started to blow fiercely; so much that she wished the wind would blow the man away. Gil could feel the coldness of his hands reaching out to her as she closed her eyes. The wind began to blow and she wished that he wouldn't be there when she opened them.

There was a brief pause where everything stood still, and the coldness she felt that had swept over her and had made her body frozen, she felt warmth replace that; curiosity forcing her to open her eyes and look.

What she saw made her eyes well up with tears that ran down her cheeks. Her daughter was sitting there and reflecting just as much curiosity as Gill was feeling right now. The shock of the moment faded and all she wanted to do was scoop up her little girl and hold her until there was no tomorrow.

Of course that wasn't true: the no tomorrow. She somehow understood that this was just a dream, and that even if she wanted it-this moment wouldn't last forever as she picked her daughter up off the dirty asphalt and hugged her tightly.

"I'm so glad you're safe." Gill whispered in her daughter's ear. "I'll never let anyone hurt you ever again—I promise." The toddler still said nothing, but did not appear to be shaken in any form like she was.

Gil held her out to examine and couldn't help smiling. Her daughter was beautiful, with rounded cheeks that held smudges of dirt. Her eyes were bright; beautiful, brown ringlets that hung over her eyes.

The little girl surprised her, uttering the words she thought she would never hear again. "Mama?"

Choking softly, Gill took a good look at her daughter, and then proceeded to hug her tightly once more before the time was gone. "Sophie." A tear ran down her cheek: it was both happiness and sorrow that her words offered.

And then there was nothing as her dream slowly faded back into reality.

Gill opened her eyes slowly. Her vision blurred from tears that had been running down her cheeks. She swiped those tears as she sat there in her chair, feeling numb and cold.

Numb, because it had been so real. Her daughter had been there and had comfortably been sitting in her arms; and the latter part of cold because she had fallen asleep in her chair—feeling empty because her daughter was no longer there with her, like in the dream she had just moments ago.

It had felt so real.

But as she turned her chair around to see the paperwork on her usually clean desk—she felt determined to push the feelings back. Running her finger underneath her eyes, she got all the mascara that might have run down while crying in her dream, and she set off to work.

Besides the one case that they were working on, it was an unusually quiet night. A time that she could reflect more on her work, instead of her focusing on her broken life.

Opening the first folder, she began reading over the information. She filled in the blanks and continued on. And when she was just about to close the last folder, Cal knocked on her office door—walking in with a brown sack in his hand.

The night had grown late without her even noticing. That was until he walked in. Cal sat back in the same chair that he had occupied this morning with a sigh; his hand was outstretched as he placed the bag on her desk. "Thought you might need this." He was watching her carefully as she leaned forward and grasped the bag cautiously.

She peered in to see a familiar plastic covering, and reached in to pull out a pudding cup.

Her gaze flittered up to his, her lips twitching into a smile as she opened the plastic covering.

"I've seen that look before." Gill cautioned as she turned to pull a spoon out from her drawer.

"What look would that be exactly?" He joked, leaning back in the chair.

She shot him a look, and he just nodded in understanding. She pointed her spoon with pudding at him. "It's not every day that you bring me pudding. I thought you hated this stuff." She gazed down at the brown blob on the spoon, eating it slowly.

Seeing a look of disgust flash across his expression, he looked up at her. "I do." A thought occurred and she put her pudding down on her desk to look in the bag.

"Two spoons." Gill looked at him curiously. He scratched as his forehead and sat forward.

"Napkins." She stopped for a moment, pulling out another pudding cup.

"Don't ask me, Emily packed it. She probably thought you needed two of those things."

"Yeah…well I think your daughter has other ideas on that matter." She smiled, scooting the pudding cup across her desk.


	6. Sleep Redux

He ate that pudding cup, because for the first time since the attack he saw her genuinely smile. A part of him didn't want to see that bright smile go away-nor the happiness that made her glow over the sadness that was still there in her heart.

Taking in her puffy eyes, tear stricken cheeks- he was for once without words. He didn't know how to comfort her, so he ate every last bite. Pretty soon, she had finished her pudding and was throwing the empty, plastic cup in the garbage.

"Are you going to be okay sleeping in your office tonight?" Cal asked politely, finishing up his own pudding.

Gill looked up from brushing off her skirt. "Yeah. I'll be fine, thanks." She offered quietly. He stood up with a nod, holding the empty plastic cup in his hand as he excused himself to the door. "Cal—" At the sound of her voice, he turned around. "Tell Emily, thanks for the pudding."

With one meaningful nod to her, he went out the door and stopped to the side. There were those dams again, breaking open when he was around her. Because he seriously had to get it out of his head that he almost thought of inviting her to sleep at his place. So close, but the words wouldn't come.

She stared after him, letting her own thoughts collect, before walking over to the couch. Draping the blanket over her arms-the one that he had laid over her last night—she walked over and turned out the light.

Blindly, she made her way over to the couch and sat down. She removed the sling; feeling that she wouldn't need it tonight and carefully pulled the blanket up to her chest. His scent was there, and for the first time she got the feeling that she was truly home.

Driving up to his house, Cal got out of his car and quietly made his way to the front door. He unlocked the front door quickly, to see the lamp in the living room on. Emily was there, reading a book in the dim light.

"Hey, what are you still doing up? I thought you'd be fast asleep in your bed by now. You have school tomorrow."

Emily finished reading the page, and then closed the book. "Yeah. Thought I'd wait up. . . . How's Gillian?"

"She's still pretty shaken." He took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack. Taking off his scarf next, he hung it on the rack above his coat. "What's that book you're reading?"

"Oh, 'The Catcher in the Rye'." Emily held up the book, so he could take a better look at it. "It's for English actually, we just got it yesterday."

"Yeah. . . For your English class with—"

"Mrs. Ryle." Nodding, Emily stopped at the stairs. "You know she's going to be okay-" She smiled at the expression on her father's face.

"Who is this she you talk about?" He joked slightly, stopping just below her on the steps.

"Gillian." She shrugged, leaning over and kissing him on the forehead. "I've got to get bed, don't stay up too late." She called behind as she trailed up the stairs.

He stood there for a moment, then followed suit to his own bedroom. Once he had finished changing, he hopped into bed; only to realize that he forgot to turn off the light.

Grunting, he pushed the covers aside and walked across the room. The house was silent, the time growing late as he flipped the light off absently and lay back in bed. As soon as he had turned off the light and walked back across the room, he had a fleeting thought: What it would be like to have someone lie beside him again.

And with that thought in mind, he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>Gillian found that she had fallen asleep only for an hour when she woke up staring up at the ceiling. For once it wasn't her dreams that had woken her, but somehow she still couldn't sleep.<p>

Getting up, she suddenly had the need to clear her thoughts. She got up, flipped on the light and scouted for her wine. Once it was found, she took it in her hand and was about to pour a glass when she realized that she was going to need something much stronger tonight.

Grabbing her jacket and purse, Gill walked out of her office—a chill running through her with the darkness that fell over the building. Without warning, she saw herself looking back to that night when she had been attacked. The fear on her face, and the hooded man that haunted her.

The image she saw made her heart beat wildly. But just when she thought that she saw him again, the thought disappeared and she only found herself standing in the middle of the hall.

She had to get out of here. She was seeing him everywhere. Passing the front desk, she quickly locked up without looking back and was thankful when she had parked so close to the building.

Quickly she got into her car and locked the doors. Her fingers were shaking as she put the keys in the ignition. During the brief moment that she had started the car and driven out of the parking lot, she knew where she was going tonight.

When she had gotten to the location, she had already driven around the block three times. She parked the car and stepped through the door of the nearest bar. Sitting down at the counter and waiting for the bartender to turn around and address her.

His gold colored name tag on his shirt revealed his name: Matthew. He had jet black, spiky hair and piercing green eyes. "What can I get you?"

Nodding, she brushed away a stray hair and sat down at the counter. Scotch, please." She answered quietly, placing her hand underneath her chin, she took a look around the bar and then back when the tap of the glass hit the wood counter.

"One scotch." The other man announced with a smile, just as a group of muscular looking guys walked through the door. In fact, even before she had taken a second glance back over at him, she knew without a doubt: those men were trouble.

Casually taking a sip of her drink, she put her drink back down. "You know them?" She gazed at the men from the corner of her eye. They were talking amongst each other and hadn't seemed to notice Matthew yet—as if there were too far away to spot him standing behind the counter. That was if Matthew happened to be their designated target.

She watched as a look of disgust flickered over to the other man sitting beside her. He met her gaze as he put his drink down on the counter. "Know them?" She gestured over to the men with a slight tilt of her head.

"Know them?" The other man asked, gazing at them hesitantly, stirring his drink with his straw; the ice was continually hitting against the side of the glass. "They've been following me around for the last few months, like dogs hunting for a bone."

"What do you think you did?"

"I'm a straight-up business man. Ranolli—the man on the right—came in here last Thursday trying to make a deal with me. But I wouldn't worry about it much. They only come here to threaten because I found out the deal was faulty when I looked into it." He picked up his glass and drained all the liquid, then motioned over for the bartender for another drink. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure why I'm telling you all this. I hardly know you."

"I get it. Can you excuse me for a minute?" She turned in her chair and stood up.

"Sure."

She walked over towards the bartender and asked where the bathroom was, and then disappeared. As she walked by, the men followed her with their eyes. When she came back the men were all leaving.

"And would you look at that-they're all leaving. It must have been your charmingly good looks that drove them away."

"That or the bartender was smart enough and he just called the cops." A smile edged at the corner of her lips.


	7. Willpower

Rubygirrl & AndromedaAiken- I was kind of thinking the same thing when I first wrote the chapter, that she should go and see Cal, but decided to go in a different direction.

Hope you enjoy this next chapter!

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><p>"I'm Jonathon" Introducing himself, he took another drink from his glass. "What happened to your arm?" Pointing towards the sling, he drained the rest of the liquid and set his glass down with a gentle thud.<p>

Gillian touched her hand lightly to her face. She decided to give him the light version. "Work accident."

"Ouch." Wincing, he signaled to the bartender, ordering another drink. "Another scotch." He turned back to her. "You want another one? My treat."

She held up her hand, twisting her body in the direction of the door. "No, I'm good. I should actually get going." The bartender placed a new napkin down and then the drink. "It's getting late."

He reached into his back wallet and pulled out some money. "At least let me get this." Reaching into her purse, she started pulling out her wallet but she couldn't quite get it out.

He touched her hand lightly and she flinched. "I've got it." Putting the money down on the counter, she put her hand back to her side and brushed a stray piece of hair back behind her ear.

"Thank you." Walking towards the door, she turned back as he took another sip. Turning back, she turned to say something, but then thought better of it and pushed the door open onto the street.

It was quiet; a chill ran through her as the wind ran through her hair. This moment clearly reminded her just before the moment that she was attacked. The fear ran through her so much that she couldn't stop looking over her shoulder.

A couple was walking slowly behind her—but nobody else was walking on the sidewalk, sitting in their car, or walking quickly towards her, that looked suspicious. She wondered how this was such a good idea to go out at night in the first place, since paranoia seemed to kicking in at full speed.

There was just something about those men that rattled her nerves. As if they were people that shouldn't be messed with—and right now she felt very vulnerable. Her willpower and energy had drained significantly since the attack.

Finally locating her keys, she took one final glance around and got into her car. She started up the engine and headed back towards the office. She avoided all back roads that she could and finally parked in her usual parking spot at a quarter to midnight.

Her keys jingled in her hand as she walked. She still had the pepper spray that she had bought within reach—although she wished for no more attacks. Even though the attack hadn't taken place at her home, she didn't even feel safe being there alone.

Being a psychologist, she knew that her emotions were written all over her face; scared, angry, saddened, fearful—or rather, all over the place. She felt displaced, and all together—numb. Her hands were shaking as she opened the door and stepped into familiar territory; making sure to lock the door behind her.

Her heels clicked against the tile as she walked down the hall to her office. The light was on in Cal's office and there was rustling that had her almost pulling out her pepper spray from her purse.

She breathed out a sigh of relief when she saw Cal flipping through a book and putting it back on the shelf when he saw her. "Cal." There was both relief and surprise in her expression.

"You look frightened, luv. Did you just get in?" He was genuinely concerned as he pointed towards the window, pulling the book that he wanted off the bookshelf and sat behind his desk.

Shaking her head, she folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the door frame. "I wasn't expecting anyone to be here at this hour. Cal, what are you doing?"

"Thought I'd pick up a book from the office." He gave a laugh, pulling open the cover. "You know, I've been meaning to read this for ages." Putting his legs up on the desk, he began reading. He had that innocent look on his face that meant that he was up to something.

Tilting her head, she elaborated. "I mean, what are you doing here?"

"If you really wanted to know—I couldn't sleep." Stretching out, he didn't take his eyes off the book. "You know this book is proving to be quite interesting."

She turned to leave. "Go home, Cal. Emily is going to wonder where you are."

"Not if she's asleep." With that she left and closed the door to her office_. It wasn't possible that he came to the office just to check up on her, was it? _

Gathering the blanket, she held it in her hands before tossing it on the couch. Slipping off the jacket first, she then took off the sling and tossed both on the unoccupied chair. Taking a old t-shirt and pants that she had brought and stashed in the bottom drawer of her desk drawer, she quickly changed and turned out the light.

Settling on the couch, she sighed before realizing that she had forgotten to lock the door. There was no way she wanted to be seen like this, especially since she had been itching to get into comfortable clothes all day. Her shoulder was beginning to ache, body stiff and head pounding.

Trying to get up, she found that she couldn't move. Her body felt weak, now that she had relaxed a little. After a few tries, she rolled onto her side and pushed herself upright. She felt out of breath and something about tonight felt unsettling. That or she was a lot more exhausted than she realized.

Standing up with the last bit of energy that she had, she locked the door and lay back down on the couch. It seemed like she was staring at the ceiling, listening to every sound. Even though she was tired, she was fighting it.

The last few nights, she was well aware about how this night would turn out. After two to four hours of sleepless rest, she would wake up from one of the same nightmares that she had been having the last couple days-one that involved her daughter being taken away, her ex-husband being the attacker and really bad things happening that didn't.


	8. Ten Fold

Thanks for the reviews! :)

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><p>When she woke up the next day, Gillian realized that the sun was already coming through the blinds of her office window. She checked her watch and realized that it was almost eight o'clock in the morning.<p>

Her night had been worse than the night before—head throbbing that shot pains all throughout her forehead. As she moved to sit up, her body felt really stiff and ached. It felt almost odd and she blamed it for sleeping on the couch for the last two nights.

Hand rubbing the back of her neck, she stood slowly and walked over to her desk. Rumbling through her drawer, she found some Advil and shakily opened it with almost no effort. She took the pills into hand and downed them with some water.

Thankfully, she had brought a change of clothes with her, because it was already the work day and Cal, Ria and Eli will have expected to be here around at least seven thirty. She got dressed as quickly as possible and opened the door to start the day.

She was just sitting down behind her desk to finish up some paperwork quickly, when Cal walked in and occupied the empty chair in front of her desk. "Morning, love." He was trying to read her expression discreetly.

"Morning." She mustered up the strength to not sound sad or tired; looking up slightly, her hand rested on top of the file, before opening it. From the corner of her eye, she saw him tilt his head again. She closed the file and relented. "Say it, Cal."

"How are you, love?" Opening her mouth to answer, he stopped her. "And when I say that –I mean it in the best possible way, is how are you really?" Gesturing, he sat forward and took the framed picture into hand.

"I'm fine, and you?" Gillian directed the question back to him and reopened the file. Her eyes averted back to the file.

"I'm good." Answering his question, he got comfortable in his chair. "That thing that you just did with your eyes though, says otherwise."

"Cal—" Warning him, she gave him a sharp look to back off. It was clear what she was asking him to do.

"Now that I can do." Immediately, Cal got up from his seat and placed the frame back on her desk. "Meet me in the conference room in five minutes, will you? I invited Mrs. Cole for a bit of a chat." He made a clicking sound and was gone before she could answer back.

That was when the feeling sunk in that he was up to something, but the headache that was still pounding in her mind seemed to block that out. Closing the file she stood up—noticing the frame that Cal had put back before leaving. It caught her eye and she picked it up and turned it around.

Giving a small smile, her fingers grazed over the picture of her daughter, and then the picture of her holding Sophie. A sob escaped her lips, and she stopped. Cal had picked this photo up twice; once on the phone, another today.

With that, she put the frame down and walked out of the office to the conference room. When she got there, a young woman was standing there with her back towards Gillian."Sorry, I must have gotten the wrong room." Something about this moment was wrong.

Turning to leave, Gillian was about to leave when the woman turned around and spoke up. "Gillian." The voice was too familiar and one that she hadn't heard in years. She turned around to put the voice to the face.

A young woman; mid twenties, shoulder-length brown hair and green eyes—just like the little girl in the picture that sits on her desk, was the older version of Sophie. "Ava." Gillian was clearly surprised, but she could guess who was behind this little meeting. In fact, it was all starting to make sense. That same picture that Cal kept picking up; the fact that she was standing here and he wasn't.

"I guess you're wondering why I'm here." The woman shrugged, pulled out a chair and sat down. Gillian folded her arms and leaned against the door frame. "I went over this a thousand times, whether I should come or not."

"I think we both know why you're here."

Ava shook her head. "It took a little while to recall it, but I figured out where you worked because I had written it down in some notebook that I had put up in my closet. I called ahead of time, but I asked your boss not to tell you. I didn't think you'd want to see me again after—"She trailed off, biting down on her lip.

At this point, the medicine still hadn't kicked in that Gillian had taken and her head was throbbing to the point that she felt like throwing up. "After you took Sophie." Gillian finished for her; her own voice came out strained, with an undertone of pain.

"Yeah." Nodding, Ava twisted her fingers together. "At the time I was with my boyfriend and we didn't know what we wanted. We were naïve and young and if I could, I wouldn't make some of the same decisions." Gillian narrowed her eyes, rubbing at her forehead to ward off the oncoming pain.

"Ava, I don't blame you for what you did." Gillian read the guilt, sadness and fear in her expression. She hung back for a few minutes, before the psychologist in her had her walking across the room and pulling out a chair to get a closer look. "You're afraid of something. What are you afraid of?"

"Nothing." A half sobbed laugh came out and Gillian grabbed some tissues that were sitting on the other side of the table, before holding them out to her. Dabbing the tissue at her cheek; gave a tightened smile before standing. "I'm sorry I wasted your time."

Gillian felt like she was pulling at strings now. "Did something happen to Sophie?" That stopped the woman in her tracks.

Ava shook her head, back towards her. "No, she's at a friend's house—playing." That erupted a new fresh set up tears. Her body was practically trembling. "I can't do this Gillian."

She looked up to see people watching them, like they were some kind of puppet show. Gillian grimaced and pulled the blinds closed. "You can't do what? What can't you do?"

Another sob and her voice shaking, Ava responded. "I can't take care of her anymore."

"Sophie." Her heart leapt thoughtfully at the possibilities of holding that child in her arms again, but the little girl was nearly two years old and had grown up. There was no possible way that she would bond the same way that she did with her own mother.

Ava looked up at her with tears in her eyes. "I have cancer." She wiped her nose with one of the tissues, causing Gillian to break out of her thoughts. "And I only have three months to live."

"What about your mother or some relatives taking care of her?"

"She died a couple months ago. And Robby, my boyfriend—he left us last year. I don't have any relatives that could take her."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Things have been hard Gillian, and Sophie deserves so much of that. I can see that now."

Eyes red around the rim, Ava gazed at her tiredly. "I can see that I've hurt you so much by taking Sophie away, but she needs this." Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out an old card and scribbled her number on it. "All I'm asking you to do right now, is think about it."

She held the card out for Gillian to take it.

Gillian hesitated, but relented. "Okay." She took the card into hand and read the number over.

Ava moved to leave, turning back with a spin of her heels. "You know, I never let Sophie forget you. I made sure that you were always a part of our lives." That brought tears to Gillian's eyes. Ava gave her a quick hug, voicing one last concern. "I was a foster child, and they just happened to be the worst years of my life. I don't want that for Sophie." And with that, she was gone.

Gillian had been so caught up in her thoughts that she almost missed Emily standing there. She looked over when Emily had called her name. "Emily." She tried to brighten with a smile, but failed miserably. In fact, Gillian was sure that she felt even more miserable than she had when she had woken up.

Emily looked over at her with a concerned glance. In a failed attempt to find her dad, the receptionist had pointed her in the direction of where Gillian had been in the conference room and that's where she had been waiting when a woman walked out in a hurry.

Okay, so usually she would have waited for her dad in his office—granted that he would make it there eventually, but she had been itching to see Gillian after hearing what happened to her. Or least she had heard just as much as she was supposed to know. Her eyes followed to where Gillian was continually glancing at the building doors as they walked. "You okay? You look like you've just seen a ghost or something."

"Yeah, I'm good." They stopped in the middle of the hall. "So what are you doing here, Em? I thought you'd have plans with friends."

"I do . . . but not until later on. I'm supposed to be having a late breakfast with my dad. You haven't seen him, have you?" Emily inquired, feeling the awkward feeling in the air. There was definitely something going on between them. Whenever she mentioned the word 'dad', she could just see the wheels turning in Gillian's head.

Checking her watch, Gillian shook her head and offered. "Not since he tore out of my office, about twenty minutes ago."

"Oh. I've tried him twice, but he hasn't answered any of my calls." Emily offered, flipping open her phone and pushing his number on speed-dial again before putting it up to her ear. "Come on, pick up. . . pick up." Time seemed to stand still momentarily, before her eyes flickered up to Gillian's. "Did my dad do something?"

"When does he not do something?" That got a big smile from Emily, which faded when she got his phone answering machine.

Hey dad, it's me. I'm at the office with Gillian . . . waiting. I came here because I thought that we were supposed to have breakfast together before I go hang out with Hayley. Call me back."

She hit the phone against her hand in an irritated fashion. "He didn't pick up, so I guess I'll just go wait in his office."

Gillian nodded. "I've got some paperwork to finish up, but if you need me—you know where to find me?" She turned to leave, as Emily nodded and stepped away to leave as well.

"Hey Gillian?"

"Yeah."

"I'm glad you're okay."

Sighing, Gillian gave her a gentle smile. "Me too." It was almost a relieved sigh. In fact just talking about it, practically sent chills through her body. One: there were so many things that could have happened that night if Cal and Ben hadn't figured out the rapist in time. Two: Talking about it right now, almost made her relive the whole night over again.

"You know he cares about you."

Still in half-thought, Gillian nodded with a far-away look in her eyes. "I know."

"I don't think I've ever seen my dad care so much about a person—well maybe besides my mom—but somehow that meaning takes on a bigger meaning when he's around you." It was apparent by Emily's wide-eyed expression that she knew that she was rambling now; trying to grip at those awkward straws that weren't ever there.

Of course Gillian and her dad cared about the other. Besides, her dad referred to her as his "best friend". It was easy to get lost in the look they gave to each other, that in some ways suggested that it was something more. But she had also heard of "the line", of boundaries that couldn't be crossed between them, making it one complicated mess that shouldn't be.

Gillian gently cleared her throat which snapped Emily out of her thoughts, before she could think about it any further; she realized her phone was ringing. Turning the phone up, Emily read the name on the caller ID. "I should take this."

"I've got some work to do. We'll catch up later?"

Nodding in response, Emily pushed the receiver to her ear. Gillian hurried down to her office—a little too quickly. It wasn't surprising that her dad had done something, but the last thing Gillian looked like she wanted to do, was be there at the office. "Dad?"

Letting out a deep breath, Gillian locked the door again and sat at her desk. Leaning forward, she rubbed at her forehead. The medicine that she had taken earlier didn't seem to be helping; the headache itself had seemed to multiply ten times over in the last half an hour, while the paper weighed heavily and almost ironically burned a hole through her pocket.

Her breath was ragged and her blood felt like it was boiling. She had little time to think of the situation and the one that had just happened, but now she felt like it was all catching up to her, now that she had sat down and could hardly think.

It was hard enough to resist the urge to let her head fall to the desk; perhaps she could add a head concussion to the list of injuries sustained this week. Rubbing her forehead again, she put the palm of her hand on her forehead in hopes of keeping herself up, and pushed open a file with the other.

Maybe she couldn't think about everything that was going on—scratch that . . . she didn't want to think about any of it. How she couldn't go home, how wary she was at night, how Cal had possibly crossed the line; and not to mention, how strange it was that suddenly Sophie's mother had shown up after Cal had been looking at the picture.

Shaking her head, she could feel herself fuming. She looked towards the phone and contemplated whether she was up to calling him, but in the back of the mind, she realized how tired she was; how badly she needed coffee—or a strong sedative that might knock her out for a week. There was no possible way, with her head throbbing like this, that she could have a conversation with him.

So she tried to focus on the paperwork, but the words and lines seemed to blur all together. There was no way that she was going to get anything done. She sighed, closed the file and relented that despite not wanting to go home—she needed to go home.

Gillian knew right away that driving wasn't actually an option. There was no way that she would be able to see straight enough; that and her arm and shoulder still needed a chance to heal. Picking up the phone, she dialed the number for the cab company and waited until it was close enough to walk out of the office.

It was possible that Eli and Ria were still out, and Cal was probably already out to breakfast with Emily, which left little room to converse. She stopped by the reception area where Heidi was sitting; head bent, she was busily writing something. Gillian contemplated whether to say anything, and it was that brief pause that had her changing her mind.

Heidi popped her head up, "Dr. Foster, I didn't know that you were still here. Lightman said that the two of you were working on a case—"

Eyes flickering up to her, Gillian wanted to say _"Yeah, we were, but he seemed to leave me out of it._ That being assumed that he was actually working on the case at the moment. She figured he wasn't, by the way he had torn out of her office. _"_ Instead, she offered up a fib. "We are— I just came back to get some paperwork."

Heidi raised her brow, looking at her disappointedly when she offered no further explanation. Despite wanting to rub at her forehead again, Gillian resisted the urge to not put on a straight face, instead of giving in to how she felt: tired, ready to collapse, yell, cry—something instead of staying silent. She wasn't hurt that he had left her out of this. No, she should be used to it—for all the times that he's left her out of things, but this time seemed different.

Gillian left out the door before she could get anything else; the cab waiting for her. She got into the cab, catching a glimpse of Cal's car sitting in the parking lot and shaking off the very distinct feeling that she was being watched.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> You know, I like to keep things interesting. Remember to leave me a review!


	9. What It Is

"Tell me again why we're the ones doing this?" Eli asked Ria as they walked along the side of a ride bricked building. It was nearly ten thirty and Ria was dressed in a shiny purple dress; Eli in black slacks and a white dress shirt.

Ria shrugged, rolling her eyes over to him. "Lightman said something about old acquaintances—and not to interrupt."

"And you actually believed him when he said that?" Eli inquired, pulling open the first set of doors open. She didn't answer him directly; instead it sounded as if they were having a couple's discussion—or similar to if they were in the middle of a disagreement.

"No, I told the man that I would find out about it later. And well here we are." Putting on a smile, they both greeted a woman and man who walked through the doors quickly.

Stopping to go through her purse, she noticed a couple who turned away from the front desk towards the door. An older man, maybe in his mid sixties, clearly interested. His wife was walking next to him on the right and noticed her husband's interest before slapping his arm. "Ralph, it's not polite to stare."

Eli and Ria shared an amused smile, and she finished digging through her purse; found a small mirror and put on some lipstick. After the door had closed and the couple was walking down the sidewalk, she put the lipstick back in and zipped her purse back up.

Opening the door, he gestured to her to go in first. Eli followed closely behind and she locked her arm around his as they walked up to the front desk. "I'll be right with you." A woman with short curly red hair offered, typing something quickly into the computer.

"Okay." Ria pressed her purse into Eli's hand. She read the name on her name tag when the woman turned slightly. _Karen. _"Where's your bathroom at? We've had a bit of a ride getting here."

Karen nodded in understanding, pointing to the nearest hall. "Go to the end of that hall and just past the elevators. The bathroom s will be on your right."

Nodding, Ria turned to him. "I'll meet you by the elevators." She kissed his lips softly; her hand intertwined with his and breaking free as she crossed the room, departing out of sight.

Eli looked quite smitten. Of course they were supposed to be playing a couple who were going ballroom dancing, but these undercover gigs were always surprising. Anything could happen.

Karen smiled knowingly. "I know that look. I swear I got that same look from my husband when I married him twenty years ago. May I ask how long the two of you been married?"

"Three years." Eli answered the question. She turned back towards the computer, typed something else into the computer.

"And I assume that you're both here for the ballroom dancing, up in Coringer Hall?"

"Yes, ma'am." The phrase even surprised Eli, not being typical Eli language, but since they were undercover right now, he had reason to reinvent himself. He gave her a boyish smile, and then pointed over to the same way that she had pointed to before.

She looked quite pleased at his politeness. In fact, if he had to guess, today had been a rough day for her. "Take the elevator up to the fifth floor, walk all the way down the hall and Coringer Hall will be on the left."

"Thanks." He nodded appreciatively, heading in the direction that Ria had gone about five minutes prior. Ria was there already, leaning against the wall, arms crossed lightly over her chest; her eyes rose in greeting, almost seeking information.

"Fifth floor." He offered the information. Pressing the up button on the elevator, Ria looked around to make sure that they were alone. "And we're sure that he'll be here."

"I picked up this flier on the way over here, and it says that he's hosting the event." Showing her the paper, they watched the elevator come down each level. Consequently, it had been on the twelfth level.

"Jake Donovan." Ria stated the name of the man that they were looking for. "Since you won't come to us—looks like we're coming to you." They had found out that Jake Donovan had also been working with Frank and Brent up until a couple months ago, but he had just suddenly quit for no apparent reason.

Pressing the button that would take them to the fifth floor, Eli asked the question. "Do we even know what this guy looks like?"

"According to the file: mid forties; black hair, blue eyes, wears glasses and can be quite the charmer." They exchanged a glance and then waited as the gravitational pull of the elevator doors to slow down.

Locking the door behind her, she put her purse down on the coffee table and walked towards the couch. She was absolutely exhausted and all she wanted to do was curl up and fall asleep.

For a moment, she let her head lie on the arm of the couch and she felt herself falling in and out of sleep before she opened her eyes again and stare out the window, until she couldn't keep them open any longer and then they slid closed.

On the other side of town, Cal was sitting across a booth from his daughter, stirring his coffee that he had yet to drink. Emily was watching him intently. They had hardly had a conversation on the way over, but she too had seen Gillian walk out of the building and get into the taxi cab and that left a lot of unanswered questions, in her own mind.

"I talked to Gillian this morning." That got a response as he tilted his head up. He took a sip of coffee and leaned back in his seat.

"I heard that in your message, love."

"No, I only said that I was with her." She took a sip of her own glass of water. "Is there something going on between you and Gillian that you don't want me to know about?"

"There are a lot of things that I don't want you to know about." Raising his brow absently, he took another sip of coffee, like it was nothing.

Emily thought about it, almost pausing to study his expression. His almost calm expression—the wild look in his eyes is almost missed, but its there. Despite him looking over the menu again, she can see the wheels turning in his head.

It wasn't hard to pick up on this. He was her father; even though he always seemed to have one on her, she wasn't so bad at picking up on things either.

Then she thought about Gillian who looked broken, but tried not to be. Whoever that woman was that Emily had seen walking—almost running out—she could tell by the uncomfortable, far-away look in Gillian's eye that it was something she didn't wanted her to see.

The whole conversation from beginning to end with her just seemed rather awkward. She knew Gillian, and this wasn't like her. When she had said that they would catch up later, Emily realized that her words seemed rather forced, not willing.

"Are you ready to order?" The waitress with red curly hair, broad shoulders and a huge grin had suddenly appeared; making Emily jump slightly at her presence. Picking up the menu, she scanned it to find what she wanted, while her dad gave his order.

As soon as she found it, Emily pressed her finger to the menu and gave her order. Hastily, the waitress scribbled the orders down and was gone in a flash, with the promise to be back soon.

Stirring her drink with her straw, Emily watched the ice swirl with a façade of fascination. She could tell that he was staring at her. "Water doesn't drink itself, love." He reminded her. Like she didn't already know that; so she leaned forward and took a sip.

"I saw Gillian talking to a woman today while I was waiting for you at the office." That caught his attention, as he gazed over at her. Of course! He had left there pretty quickly after seeing Sophie's mom there. He knew by the tone of her voice as he spoke to her that she would come—but day after day she didn't show up; days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months—and then she suddenly appeared.

There were times when Cal wanted to call her, but he knew that would be going over the line. In fact, he was pretty sure that even though it wasn't the first thing on her mind right now, Gillian was probably thinking somewhere in the back of his mind that he had.

He knew that she needed an explanation. In the meantime, Emily was watching him intently— hoping for her own explanation to what she had seen earlier.

Cal licked at his lips, trying to decide what part of it to tell her. He decided the short version would be best. "It was someone Gillian knew a long time ago, love. Someone that she wasn't expecting to see, but did." He added, so only she could hear him—as if that line would explain everything. Never had he been at a loss of words, like he was now.

He saw it all over her face, each and every time he looked at Gillian. He hated that bloody line with a passion: the one she stood behind every single day—and even more so now that she had been hurt.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>So, Emily made an appearance in this chapter- and is a big reason for something big happening in the future chapters. Can you just see the wheels in Cal's head: spinning around and around? Eli and Ria kind of make a cute couple, despite them being undercover. Guess undercover isn't exactly the word I'm searching for. Acting like a couple, is more like it. And that's about it. Except for maybe, 'Until next time', please review!


	10. Beautiful Disaster

After lunch, he dropped Emily back at her car— knowing that even though there was a pile of work and a couple of cases that needed his attention, but even he knew that wasn't going to happen until he had made sure that Gillian was okay.

Emily leaned her arms against the open window, gazing towards the Lightman group building; the place that had become a second home for all of them. "You know, she could be in there."He knows in an instant who she's talking about.

Reaching up, he patted her cheek, grinning deeply; his English accent thick. "When did I get a grown up for my daughter, hmm?"

She doesn't answer his question directly. "I know enough to know that what happened to Gillian wasn't right. But dad, who I saw in there this morning, wasn't her." She watched him momentarily, dug the keys out of her pocket and leaned back against the car.

"I wish it were that simple, Em. Gillian and I don't have that same relationship that you and your mates have." He gestured, throwing his hands up wildly into the air.

She looked at her watch, then back at him. "Yeah, about that—I'm considering why you ran out of her office this morning."

He pushed her forehead with his hand, feigning irritation. "Now I know you have somewhere to be." Keys jingling in her hand, she rounded the corner of the car. He rolled down the passenger side window, leaning to the side. "When do you expect to be back at home?"

"Not until late. Hayley and I were going to start working on our history project that's due in a couple weeks—then go catch a movie with a couple friends."

"Define friends."

Emily sighed, knowing what he was getting at. _Are there going to be boys? _His eyes seemed to ask that exact question. "Hayley and I are meeting up with Kelsey and Delanie from school. We're going to the mall in Columbia."

"Fine—but you know how I feel about you staying out too late." He pointed out with warning, leaning to the side.

"I promise, we'll head home right after the movie is done." Emily called back over her shoulder with a smile as she leaned through the passenger door window. They exchanged a glance and then she walked over to the car that was picking her up.

Before he knew it, he was watching his only daughter drive away. She was now fifteen and he wondered every day how he had grown up so quickly. Then again, he also wondered when it was that the person who had become a second mother to his daughter and his best friend would also crash and burn.

He had seen the look on her face, the wear in her emotion; the purple bags under her eyes. She hadn't been sleeping, and he knew the best way to make her go home would be to keep her off the case. But what he couldn't accept was that she had taken a taxi home instead of her own car.

With that thought, he started the engine. Sending Loker and Torres on the other case would keep them occupied for awhile; enough that it would keep their prying questions—that had no doubt had been forming—away from Gillian.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled up to her townhouse that she had bought after she had divorced her husband. It was located in a quiet place, just the way she liked it.

Getting out, he let the car door close with a short thud. He climbed the stairs, for once ignoring the line. He hadn't seen her since earlier this morning, when he had rushed out of the room, intending to meet with Mrs. Cole at a different location.

From the moment that he had laid eyes on her, he was filled with concern. But he had ignored it, because Gillian he had asked him to. But what he had read from the expression on his daughter's face, he understood fully, without a doubt, that things were getting worse with his best friend.

Bringing his fist up in mid-knock, he looked through the window. Gillian was lying on the couch, on her side; body curled into a ball. Hand on her forehead, as if she had stopped mid action from rubbing at it.

With a further glance, he noticed her jerk slightly as if she were in the middle of some nightmare. It wasn't hard to put together that was the reason she hadn't been sleeping. With every minute that went by, things were starting to make a bit more sense.

He pounded on the door, while peering in the window. He watched as she jerked again and then jolted up from her place on the couch. He pounded on the door again and he lifted his brow up when she finally turned her gaze towards the window.

Her eyes, were wide and filled with sleep as she stood up slowly; wavering slightly as she walked unsteadily to the door. She unlocked it with a sigh, apprehension all over her expression. There was plenty that he could have seen. When she opened the door, she knew by the look he was giving her that he already knew too much.

"Cal."She sighed, not exactly loving that he was there. She couldn't excuse what had happened earlier. Anything that happened in her life—was her life. There was a reason there was a line.

"Screw the bloody line." He mumbled more to himself, but upon reading her expression. She looked at him with a slight glare, hand on the door.

"You know I hate when you do that." Her voice was soft, guard high. "Did you need something, Cal?" She asked pointedly, trying to keep calm. However, he could see her straining to stand—let alone, trying to breathe.

In fact, he wasn't just noticing the bags underneath her eyes anymore. He was noticing the sweat glistening just above her hairline and brows. Her face a shade paler than her usual color; lack of redness in her cheeks.

Her usually curled hair was flat; random pieces were plastered to her face. He noticed immediately that she was grasping the edge of the door so tightly that her knuckles were turning white.

She released her grip slightly and he met her eyes. "I saw you get into the taxi earlier. Thought you might be having a bit of car trouble."

So that's why she felt like she was being watched, but her mind felt so jumbled that she could hardly think and didn't think to put it all together before she left. "If I was having car trouble," her brow rose; voice softened in order to push her point across. "I would have called you."

Nodding, Cal stepped onto the ledge so he was standing next to her, and gave her a thoughtful look. How long have you been running a fever?" She looked at him, like he had magically sprouted two heads as she furrowed her brow in confusion—so he clarified what he meant. "Your body is radiating heat." With that note—he slipped past her into the house.

Closing her eyes, she sighed in an irritated fashion and closed the door. Her hand went up to feel her forehead, before she cursed his ability to read her. Placing her arm back by her side, she leaned against the door.

He cocked his head towards the folded brown blanket that was sitting on her couch. Opening her mouth to ask him for the real reason that he was there, she quickly closed it when she noticed the disapproving frown on his face. He looked back at her, back to the couch and to her again.

Okay, now that I did deserve." He pointed out as she crossed her arms in front of her chest; mostly to keep herself balanced, but also growing quite irritated that he was reading her again.

"Cal—" She warned him, sighing again. Eyes flickering back at the couch for a different reason; which happened to be that she just wanted this to be a dream, and she wanted to go back to sleep so she could wake up from it.

Not that she didn't ever want him there, because this house had become new grounds for the both of them: for their relationship. But when he crossed the line—that was another story for the books that she didn't want for the record.

"The real reason you're here." She prodded, knowing that he hadn't come just because he had seen her leave in a taxi. He wanted to know why, just as badly as she wanted to know the real reason he was there.

"I wanted to see it for myself, love." He offered with a nod. No explanation. No details—just eight little words, before he walked into the kitchen.

"See what?" She trailed off as she watched him disappear around the corner. Then it dawned on her to why he was there. Using the wall for leverage, she watched as he took a glass out of the cabinet and then closed it. "You're checking up on me." She laughed, clearly with disbelief as she shook her head.

He gazed over at her as he filled up the water. "No, but I do need to clarify a few things." She thought he was filling it up for himself, he stepped forward and handed her the glass and two extra-strength Tylenol.

"Other than the fact that you already put your nose in my personal life—" Swallowing back the bile that was rising in the back of her throat, she could feel her blood pressure rising; hands starting to shake. "I think you've already done enough."

"You want to know why I'm really here, love?" Setting his glass on the counter, he closed the distance between them. "Three days ago, I held my best friend in my arms, who just happened to be lying down on the pavement; shaking and scraped up from a near brutal attack. Now I've watched her go through hell and back again, and I'm no bloody fool to see that she's been sleeping-no, not even sleeping—on her couch in her office since then."

She laughed bitterly, her body wracked with fever; body temperature surely rising from the anger that she was feeling. Her breathing was erratic. The surroundings around her, started to spin. There was half of a lost thought in the back of her mind, to put the glass down as her hand shook and her grasp on it slowly slipped.

He noticed her tense, and reached to take the glass. She didn't object as he took it and put it hastily on the counter. In fact, she didn't react at all—and that was alarming enough—but as he turned back around, he watched all remaining color drain in her face; her knees buckled, and he caught her before her body could hit the ground.


	11. Anything But Sweetness

Is it just me, or did they change the format of their pages? I kind of like it because it doesn't stretch out the sentences as long and more resembles Microsoft Word, but it's definitely a change.

AndromedaAiken & sash queen of the jungle - I'm putting all of you out of your misery now- by updating :)

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><p>Eli and Ria had stepped into a rather large looking room; golden walls and ceiling; a large, but beautiful chandelier hung above in the middle, casting light fragments and making it appear as if they had just stepped into a palace-like-setting.<p>

"Pretty impressive." Ria offered as she walked into the room, clearly in awe as she looked around. She paused when a gentleman with peppered black and white hair, blue eyes and dressed in a tuxedo, held her gaze before nodding.

A rather tall woman, blonde hair up in a tight bun; was standing next to him. She was wearing a sea green dress: v-neck, sleeveless, and stopped mid-length to her thigh. A white pearl necklace with matching earrings. Genuine smile on her lips, leaning over to talk with another woman with high cheek bones; black curly hair pulled up into a ponytail.

Stepping up beside her, Eli had almost the same reaction as she did. "I'd say. I feel like we've just stepped into a palace, instead of a hotel." Rubbing at his forehead, he noticed a man coming up towards them.

"Looks like we've got company." She nodded over to the woman and her husband that she had noticed a few minutes prior. Touching his wife's shoulder, the guy finished and walked over to them.

"Hi, my name is Matthew Walker. My wife, Lori and I are in tonight's dance competition." He gestured to his wife behind him and then held out his hand in a friendly greeting. "You and your husband been dancing long?"

Ria and Eli exchanged a glance, and they silently came to an agreement. "We just started about a year ago. "

"Actually, we were supposed to meet a friend here." Ria chimed in, looking around again.

"Does your friend dance the competitions often?" He paused, "The reason why I ask is because my wife and I go to most every event, and we may be able to help you find him." They turned around to see about a few hundred people now in the room.

"Yeah, we didn't really ask." Ria raised her brow, "Wow. That filled up fast." Eli looked just as surprise, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, really."

"Biggest event of the year."Chiming in, Michael threw his hand up in the air with a big smile on his face. Gesturing with his hand to his wife, she finished up talking to an older couple, who looked clearly fit and in love. She walked over with a formal smile on her face from the previous conversation. "Lori this is—"

"Kate Finnegan." Ria offered her undercover name and shook her hand. Despite being one of the nicest couple, it wasn't easy to lie.

"Nice to meet you." Lori offered politely, shaking her hand with a firm shake and returned it back to her side.

"Oh—Paul Finnegan." He hesitated, testing out the last name on the tip of his tongue. Making a mental note to ask Ria about that later, he shook both of their hands; partially distracted as he kept an eye on the growing crowd of people.

Jacob Donovan was five-two, light sandy brown hair, but apparently had made a dramatic identity change, according to some of the neighbors that they had talked to earlier.

After giving their formal greetings, Michael continued. "I was just telling Kate and Paul about the dance competitions that we participate in each year."

"About fifteen years ago, my husband and I were invited by some friends to go dancing—" Lori hesitated excitedly, "And we've been dancing ever since." beaming brightly. They were totally oblivious what they were up to and Eli was sure that they wanted to keep it that way.

Michael smiled, turning back to Ria and Eli. "You mentioned you were meeting your friend here."

Eli rubbed at his chin briskly, putting his hand back by his side. "Yeah, his name is Jacob Donovan."

"Jake." Upon speaking his name, Lori brightened; her green eyes shone as she turned to face the other side of the room. "Brown spiky hair, glasses and a charming smile?"

"That would be him." Eli chimed in, playing along. Ria smiled and nodded, exchanging a side-glance with him that they had gotten the information that needed.

"He was over at the judge's table a few minutes ago—"

Michael turned and leaned over to his wife. "Charming smile?" At first, he could have been the works of a jealous husband, but upon further inspection, he was smiling at her. She hit his shoulder playfully and shook her head, turning back towards them to explain. "Michael likes to be a bit of a tease sometimes. It's what I first noticed when we met thirty years ago."

"Thirty, really?" Intrigued, Eli looked a bit surprised, exchanging another glance with Ria. "I never would have guessed."

"Yeah—" Lori chimed in breathlessly. "Michael, isn't that Giovanni?" She pointed out an older gentleman with black hair and dressed in a black dress coat and white shirt who was also spotted across the room, but near the far corner and away from the general crowd.

"Indeed it is." He nodded, slightly distracted as he turned back to them. "Please excuse us." Both Ria and Eli nodded back at them and they left, quickly crossing the room.

As soon as he was sure they were not within earshot, Eli muttered. "Well that was fun." Ria nodded, scanning the room.

Squinting, she pointed out a man that had his back towards them and was going through something that was sitting on the table. "There." With that, they began walking side by side; her heels echoing—despite all the continuing chatter.

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><p>Slowly, her eyes fluttered open. Gillian noted the quietness. Her position on the couch was the same—except for the blanket that was now over her body. She went over the fact that she no longer had a headache: tried to remember why that was so.<p>

The last thing she recalled was having an argument with Cal, who had shown up at her house unexpectedly. He had given her a glass of water and a few Tylenols, that she didn't remember taking.

Listening to the silence, she heard slight movement in the kitchen and sat up. The noise startled her a bit. _Was Cal still in her house? _She groaned, wavering slightly at the dizziness she was feeling again; most likely from the fact that she had sat up a little too quickly.

Closing her eyes, she heard a cup rattling against a plate and opened them up to see Cal walking over; holding a cup of something steaming and a plate of toast.

"Good, you're up."Cal greeted, placing everything on the coffee table. "How are you feeling, love?"

_How long had she been asleep? _

Gillian shrugged, placing the question in the back of her mind. She shot a glance towards the window. The sky was dark now and she remembered that when he had come, the sun had still been up. "I've been better."

He nodded, but not happily. "I took the liberty of going through all your cabinets to find your thermometer.

_All of the cabinets?_

A slight disbelief registered on her face, "You went through all my cabinets? Cal—you know my place like the back of your hand. You stayed here—"

"Once." Clarifying, he sat on the edge of the coffee table. "I suggest you drink the tea and eat the toast." She opened her mouth to say something, but he continued as he pushed the cup and plate towards the edge; signaling that he was serious. "And you'd better not say that you're not hungry, because I'm not going to have you fainting again on my watch."

_On his watch? Just how long was he planning to stay here? _

Slowly placing her legs over the edge of the couch, she reached over and took the cup into

hand. The action made her feel lightheaded, so she placed the cup on the arm of the couch to cool, with no intention of drinking. "I assume that there's another option—because I know you, Cal. You have a way of just making your way in and doing it your way, but you crossed a line."

"See, now that was the explanation that I was trying to tell you about earlier." He gestured, leaning back on his hand slightly.

"When?" Gillian inquired in a low voice, swallowing harshly. By the way her eyes gleamed, he could tell that she was holding back a lot of emotion.

He gazed into the intensity of her stare, pursing his lips together. "After we worked on the experimental drug case, I got a call from Ava that must have been forwarded to my voicemail."

"That was five months ago!" She seethed, a tear escaping down her cheek. "And you didn't think at any time to tell me about this?"

"I didn't think I had to" He countered, voice rising. "I called her back— told her that I shouldn't be the one that she should be talking to in the first place." They both paused to take a breath and cool down, and then he continued. "I told her that she should be talking to you, and you know what she told me? That she had your number sitting right on her lap, but she couldn't get her fingers to press the numbers."

Her expression mellowed slightly, some of the anger falling at his revelation. More confusion took place as she brushed some hair behind her ear. "I could tell just by the tone of her voice that she felt quite nervous and tormented at seeing you again."

Eyes flickering up to his, she read his expression. Her brows raised, lips relaxed in surprise. "She thought that I was angry at her for taking away Sophie."

"For many different reasons, actually." He clarified, leaning forward and taking a bite of her toast. "That being one of em' "

Gazing over at him, she looked half amused. "I thought you said that I should eat the toast— in order to avoid another fainting spell. Not for you to eat it."He was in the middle of taking another bite, when he looked back at her.

"I did." He finished chewing, and then swallowed. "But then again—we both know that you weren't going to eat it."

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Yeah! Another update. Does that make three in a week? You guys are lucky! :) I know, that was an evil cliffhanger the last time around. So yep, I updated. Got to go catch up now with writing more chapters :) As always...please review!


	12. Going Under

"Well that was definitely the better part of my day." Eli offered, loosening his tie as he pushed open the door to the office. They walked past the receptionist desk; Ria's heels, clicked against the tile.

Putting her phone back to her ear, she pushed a couple buttons and then put it back to her side; disbelief on her expression. "Yeah, well we may have been one of the best couples on that dance floor—in order to get a baseline read on Donavon, but neither Lightman nor Foster are answering their phones right now."

Eli shrugged as he sat down in the chair. "Weren't they both working on the Cole case when we left?"

Shaking her head, Ria sat down slowly in the seat next to him and opened up the box of files. "No, it was just Cal this morning; said that Gillian had some things to finish up." Sighing, she dropped the file onto the table and rubbed at her head. "Something doesn't seem right about that." Palms on the table, she was staring down at the file.

"In finishing up, he means that acquaintance that he mentioned earlier."

"Yeah." She offered distractedly, reading over the top paper in the file that they had put together. "Hey, when you were talking to Donovan earlier, did he mention anything about his wife? When he was shaking our hands, he had a wedding ring on but I didn't see her anywhere around."

"I saw a lady with black hair and blue eyes staring at Donovan as we were talking. She turned away when I looked over at her. Her husband—didn't even notice her point of interest."

"How do you know that was her husband?"

"When I walked by to go to the bathroom, I noticed that she and her husband had matching, gold wedding bands. The only difference was that she had a rather large diamond on hers."

Ria nodded, her head tipping up in acknowledgement. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card. "According to this." She put it down on the table. "It says that Donovan has been hosting dance competitions for the last five years."

"Sounds like the perfect cover up, if he's looking to have an affair. Or do something without her knowledge."

Her eyes flickered up to his, lips curled up with a knowing smile. "Do you think it would be enough to kill someone? Say—a close colleague if they found out?"

Eli stood from his chair, with the file in his hand. "I say we go find out."

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><p>It took awhile, but Gillian finally drank the tea that Cal gave her and lay back down on the couch. A cup of tea wasn't usually what she went for, but it was pretty good.<p>

Setting the cup down onto the coffee table, she relaxed back against the couch. Her eyes grew heavy, and she couldn't put it on Cal that he had drugged her with something—or she was way more exhausted than she knew.

Before long; bleary-eyed and not sure why she was awake, she sat up slowly from the couch and let out a slight shudder and groaned. Her body felt stiff from her sleeping position as she sat forward and stood.

The closer she got to the kitchen, the more the smells wafted in. Cal next to the oven was stirring something in a big pot—steam rising from it.

She leaned her head against the wall. "Let me guess. You went through all my cabinets to find that." Pointing at the pot, he turned around and mustered a small smile as he stopped what he was doing, then walked towards her.

He returned the smile, looking into her eyes. "You look like you're feeling better."

"A little. Cal? You don't have to do this."

"I'm not doing what you think I'm doing, if that's what you're asking." He spoke innocently, continuing as he went back to stirring the contents in the pot.

"You're not the only one who could read expressions. I may not be able to read expressions as well as you, but I've known you long enough to know what you're thinking.

Turning the stove off, he put the pot on the opposite burner and twisted around. He leaned one hand against the counter." Three days ago, my best friend was attacked and I found her sleeping on her couch in her office—and frankly I'm worried sick about her."

"I'm fine."

"Keep telling yourself that—"

"I know that you care, Cal—but right now I need you to be a friend. Not act like a mentor or a colleague." She hissed, suddenly feeling drained.

"If you want me to starting more like your friend, then you have to start talking—giving a little communication my way, because all you want me to act like I don't notice, but that doesn't keep me from thinking about it.

"Yeah." She laughed shortly. "You know, you have that way of doing that thing where your eyes shift back and forth when you're reading people—just like you're doing now. You leave and don't tell anyone where you're going. You put yourself in dangerous situations."

"I do what I have to do." He defended, backing up and looking in some of the drawers. "Where do you keep your hot pads?"

Relenting, she pointed towards the black marble counter island. "Second drawer." Gazing towards the stove, she inhaled, and at that point, her stomach grumbled in protest. She tried to figure out when the last time it was that she had ate.

Yesterday? A sandwich. Pickle. Yogurt. Today? Nothing really. She had woken up on the couch in her office, taken a cab home and fallen asleep pretty much after she had walked through her door. Before she knew it, Cal was standing on her doorstep and offering her toast—which he devoured after realizing that she wasn't really going to eat it.

The tea was pretty much the only thing she had consumed, and had relaxed her. Although her muscles had gotten a break, she still felt worn down more than ever now. Nightmares had continued and had allowed the deep sleep that she was in—to trap her.

He was on top of her this time. It was all flooding back now as she stood there, feeling paralyzed as he felt his arms pinning her down. Her chest heaved, struggling to draw in a breath. Cal was going on about making chicken noodle soup, but why wasn't he helping her?

Her body felt weighed down, helpless as tears poured down her face. Panic was beginning to set in as her body shook and shook. His menacing eyes bore into hers. "Gillian." The voice sounded like Cal's, but it was another man on top of her.

"Gillian." The darkness began to fade away, tears pouring down her cheeks as she let out a gargled cry. She realized that Cal had brushed a hand over her forehead and had picked her up. She could barely see him through the tears. It almost felt like she was still in the nightmare. He was holding her the same way that he had when he had found her on the asphalt.

"Cal." Her voice felt weak, broken as she faintly realized that he was taking her somewhere. The air was cold, and felt good for some reason as he unlocked the car and put her into the passenger side and buckled her up. By that time, she was quiet and tried hard to stay awake as her eyelids grew heavy.

"You're burning up, love—" That's the only words she picked up as the engine came to life. She was only half aware that they were moving at a higher speed as they drove down the street

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><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE<strong>: I had every intention of making that kitchen scene real, but it turned out like a dream sequence. Which works actually, because Cal was actually there to kind of witness her nightmare and to pick her up like a knight in shining armor when he realizes that she's burning up with a fever. Maybe her subconscious is trying to tell her something.

I've been kind of weighing whether I should ask this or not, but I was thinking today about doing some kind of Q&A thing. Not really sure what it'll entail, but thought it would be nice to get to know what maybe my readers are thinking and if there's anything specific you would like to ask. Especially for those that may be reading but aren't reviewing. Would that be something that any of you would be interested in? Let me know. If you have any ideas or suggestions, I would love to hear them. As always, thank you for those who are reviewing :)


	13. The Other Side of the Door

Two hours ago, he had carried her into the emergency room. She had let out that heartbreaking cry again when he had picked her up out of the seat. His voice was gentle as he had soothed her; his fingers running through her hair. She began crying again, which made the minutes seem agonizingly long—despite a minute walk through the doors.

A blonde haired nurse poked her head up from behind the desk. She had a kind smile that faded when she saw him carrying Gillian in her arms. She asked him a few questions as he set her onto the gurney. Another nurse with black spiky hair, who had brought the gurney in, took Gillian's pulse.

After the blonde haired nurse had asked what relation he was to her, he responded with "Her boss." At the time, he didn't think to say friend—but it was just as well. She had asked him a few other questions and then whisked Gillian back, promising to take good care of her.

For about an hour, he had paced back and forth. He had contemplated calling Emily to let her know where he was, but he could see her driving over here in panic. Gillian had become a second mother to her. This was definitely something that could wait until morning.

Loker, Torres and Reynolds—the only thing they needed to know was that Gillian was taking a personal day—or quite a few. He still wouldn't know until the doctor updated him on the exact nature of what they were dealing with.

After getting nothing new out of the nurses that were at the front desk—besides that Gillian was still in with the doctor—he had finally resorted to sitting; watching the clock, going through the rather collective magazines in the waiting room.

Finally the doctor that had seen her four days ago, emerged through the doors. It didn't take long to abandon the magazine on the desk. "Dr. Lightman." The doctor greeted him with a firm handshake, nodding.

"Dr. Tucker." He greeted, shaking his hand back. The middle aged man with dark brown hair, oval face—looked rather tired, relieved, bothered all rolled into one.

"I'm just going to get right to it." Dr. Tucker jumped in, rubbing at the edge of his brow. "Gillian . . . I talked to another doctor—Dr. Henries and we both think that Dr. Foster is experiencing what we call PTSD—among other things. I take it you already knew that, since as a psychiatrist you're able to recognize some of the signs. Upon examining her, I found that she has developed pneumonia, since we saw her last. She's also mildly dehydrated and has a severe case of exhaustion"

Cal processed through the information; putting it in the back of his mind that he should have tried sooner to get through to her, but he knew that somewhere, she knew what she was doing. Despite the fact that she was sleeping in her office, he could tell that she hadn't been sleeping. Except for he had ignored it. He had ignored it all.

"Okay—so that explains the high fever that she developed rather quickly during the night—but how does something like pneumonia not get diagnosed?"

Opening the file in his hand, Dr. Tucker looked over the notes. "When she came in four days ago, her blood count was at a pretty normal range. Due to the immense stress as well as the lack of sleep—even in a healthy body like Dr. Foster's— it was most likely unable to fight off any sickness that it was subjected to when she left. Even then, because she was brought in before it got any worse . . . we were able to start treating her with antibiotics and fluids."

"That's the good news. What's the bad news that you're not saying?" Cal inquired, his eyes shifting back and forth.

Dr. Tucker pursed his lips together for a moment, looking quite thoughtful. Tucking the file under his arm, he answered his question. "I want to keep Dr. Foster here for a couple days. I left her a list of psychiatrists that she can talk to—including our head psychiatrist, Dr. Henries. "Opening the file again, pulled out a paper and handed it to him.

"How did Dr. Foster take it when you gave her this?" He asked, holding up the paper.

Shrugging with a small smile, Dr. Tucker closed the file. "She reacted like any doctor would—she understood why I was obligated to give it to her, just as much as I understood why she didn't want to stay when she signed the release form." A nurse with red hair called over to him. "If you'll excuse me. I need to check up on one of my patients. But I fully expect you to be here at the crack of dawn. We'll talk more then." He half-joked. They shook hands and the doctor disappeared behind the wooden doors.

Gathering his coat from the chair that he had been sitting in, Cal realized that it was quite the downpour, with massive amounts of lightning that lit up the sky, and thunder that rattled the otherwise quiet early morning.

Despite it, he had found a rather close parking spot that he didn't have to walk too far. He kept his hands in his pocket as he left, then unlocked the door quickly and got in. Putting the keys into the ignition, the engine roared to life. Quickly brushing off the stray amount of water, he backed up and sped off towards home.

When he got there about forty five minutes later—due to the continuing rain—he quickly unlocked the door to a dark house. He clicked on the light, and took off his coat, only to see that Emily was fast asleep on the couch; she must have waited for him to get home.

Hanging up his coat on the rack, he adjusted the blanket around her body and turned off the light again and walked swiftly down the hall and closed the door behind him.

Gillian woke up, feeling rather strange. Her body felt heavy, her headache had returned and she felt weak. The last thing she remembered was having some crazy dream about Cal making chicken noodle soup. Although it felt real, she could sense that she wasn't lying on her couch any longer.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she was greeted with partial darkness. It was quiet, and she recognized that she was lying in a bed, with thin sheets and a blanket on top of it. Her pulse was being taken by the monitor on her finger.

The curtain was drawn, which gave her privacy. She sat there for a moment and sighed, before she threw back the sheet and blanket. It wasn't the proudest moment, when she realized that she was once again dressed in what she called: the paper thin cover.

Shivering she sat up slowly and turned off the monitor, as not to alert anyone. Clipping it on the sheet, she tied the gown tighter, in order to avoid any gaps and grabbed the bag of fluids, before peeking around the corner of the curtain.

She could tell by the heavy breathing, that her neighbor was fast asleep. Going into the bathroom, she closed and locked the door behind her.

The walls were white, and so were the tiles. There was one sink, shower and a mirror. Now she knew how her patients felt. Shuffling over to the sink, she grasped the edge of the white sink.

She hadn't looked into the mirror in almost four days and she knew that she probably looked horrible. Lack of sleep, the nightmares that wouldn't end, and especially that Ava had asked her to look over Sophie—practically threw her over the edge.

It was too much. She felt her chest start to tighten and realized that she was starting to have a panic attack. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to breath in and out slowly. She opened her eyes and found herself looking straight into the mirror.

Her hair was slightly messy, bags underneath her eyes. Before she could go on, there was a knock at the door. "Dr. Foster?"

"Yes."

"Just making you were in there." She guessed it was one of the nurses, coming to check up on her. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah. I'll be out in a few minutes." Gillian offered, and then sighed. With one last look, she did everything that she needed to; her hand on the knob, she took in a much needed breath, before unlocking it.

She considered not to come out, but figured that would allow the nurses to knock down the door. When she was first starting out and had a job at a hospital, she actually had to do it. The patient was scared and had locked herself into the bathroom. They finally had to call her down when the patient started freaking out and said that she would only talk to her.

It didn't make total sense how that patient had been feeling, but now she did. A nurse with blonde hair greeted her. "Guess I don't have to ask how you're feeling."She held up the monitor that had been clipped to the sheet.

Gillian shrugged, handing the fluid back to her. "Call it—doctor intuition." The nurse gave her and small smile and helped her back into bed. She let out a small shiver, hoping the nurse hadn't seen it.

But she had. She helped her put the covers back over her body. The nurse informed her that she was going to take her vitals and pulled out the thermometer to take her temperature. "I wish all my patients would have great as friend as yours. You were lucky that he brought you in when he did."

"What makes you say that?"

She pulled out the thermometer from her ear. "You had a temperature of 104.2 when you came in this morning."

"No wonder I look like death."

Smiling gently, she introduced herself as she put the thermometer down. "I'm going to take your pulse now." With that, she placed two fingers on the side of her wrist, to find her pulse.

Gillian focused on taking deep breathes and the nurse was done in no time. She wrote something in her chart and Gillian shivered again. "Your pulse looks good. I'll be back in another half an hour to take your vitals again. I'm Samantha, by the way. I'll be taking care of you for the remainder of your stay here."

"Gillian." Nodding, she offered; looking at the chart. "Only my patients or clients call me Dr. Foster." Samantha looked over at her. "Noted. You don't think I could have a peek at that, do you?"

She closed the file and tossed it to the side. "Since you just woke up, I'm sure you want to know why you're actually here."

"Yes."

"You were brought in with a high fever, mild dehydration and a severe case of exhaustion. Dr. Tucker found that you were showing symptoms of pneumonia and possibly PTSD."

"PTSD?"

"Have you been sick recently with a cold or the flu?"

"Last month, I had a little bit of a cold. How long does Dr. Tucker want me to stay here?" She had every right to sound irritated. The hospital was the last place she wanted to be right now, and considering that she had been diagnosed with PTSD that meant she would talking to someone later on.

"At least a couple days. But I would definitely talk to him in a couple of hours, when he comes around to do his rounds. He can fill you in on everything that you know and answer any questions you need to know."

Gillian sighed, relaxing back into the pillow. Samantha was gathering the thermometer and the file into her hands. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. If you need anything, push the red button down and someone will come help you. I should be on for another four hours and then I'll be back tomorrow afternoon, so I should be around for a little bit longer before the nurse change. Try and get some sleep. It'll help the time pass by a little faster." Nodding, Gillian sunk back into the pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Didn't have a lot to do today, so I wrote this. Granted, it's quite a long chapter, so hopefully it'll tie you over until the next chapter is written. It's now one in the morning. I think I'll go to bed now. If I made any mistakes, I'll fix it later, when I'm more awake. Remember to review :) Oh, and kudos to amiri91 for guessing PTSD first. Goodnight!


	14. Sharpen Up the Knives

Cal was just pouring himself a cup of coffee when Emily came into the kitchen, still dressed in her pajamas. "I slept on the couch waiting for you last night. What time did you finally get home?"

He looked at his watch and mentally counted, "Not until late. What time did you get home from that shopping trip last night?"

"We got back into town around ten—home by ten-fifteen."

"Really? That soon." He took a sip of his coffee, and set it back down on the counter.

She shuffled into the kitchen and pulled out a bowl from the cabinet. "We drove back to Delanie's and then I drove home. She doesn't live too far away from us, you know." Taking a spoon from the drawer, she put it in the bowl with a slight clatter. "Considering we go to the same school." Opening the fridge, she closed it. "Dad? Does not being here last night, have anything to do with Gillian?"

Tipping the cup, he drained all remaining coffee and rinsed it out and set it in the sink. "What makes you ask that, love?"

"You always get that really concerned, fierce look in your eyes when anything happens with Gillian." She shrugged, taking the milk out of the fridge. Her eyes were filled with concern when she turned back around. "Did something happen . . . with Gillian?"

He looked over, into his daughter's concerned eyes. Quickly deciding not to tell her about how he had gone over to Gillian's, seen how sick she looked—although there was probably a version that his daughter had seen when she had gone to the office looking for him—and watched as she fainted, then developed a higher fever that he had to carry her into the emergency room.

"Dad?" He broke out of thought, as she set the milk down on the counter. "Where did you just go?"

"Nowhere that you need to know about. Eat your cereal would you?" He warned for her not to press him any further. So she went on and poured herself some cereal, poured some milk on and began eating. She watched as he began to walk away, and then turned around; his voice a lot softer this time as he leaned against the counter. "Gillian is going through some tough things right now that I can't really talk about. You understand that, don't you love?"

Emily nodded, before swallowing. "Yeah . . . I mean, Gillian just kind of became like my second mother when the two of you met. When I saw her yesterday, it scared me . . . a little to see her like that."

"I know, Em." Swiftly, he walked over to her and kissed her on the top of head, then pulled out his car keys from his pocket and began walking towards the back door. "I have to go into the office for a little while. Would you mind cleaning up the house a little?"

"Sure." She offered, slightly confused as she scraped up the last few stray pieces of cereal floating in the bowl. "Are we expecting company?"

"Not sure yet."He called back to her as he retreated towards the back door and was gone, before she could ask anything further.

"Any sign of Lightman or Foster?" Eli asked as he walked with Ria down the hall of the Lightman Group building.

"No sign of either one of them." She shook her head, black heels clicking down the hall; dressed in a dark blue dress shirt, with grey pants. "By the looks of it, neither Lightman nor Foster has set foot in this office recently. Although, Gillian's car is still in the parking lot."

Eli looked at his watch. It wasn't like either to be absent. "Well Lilly Donovan should be here within the hour. Just hope one of them makes it here. We could really use fresh eyes on this." They exchanged a glance, and then he disappeared into the computer lab.

Ria stood there for a moment, before going back down the hall. She tried Gillian's cell phone, but got her voicemail. She left a message and was just about to try Lightman when he walked through the door.

Standing, she tucked her phone back into her pocket. "I've been trying to reach you for the past hour. "

He smacked his lips, looking around. "I had a bit of an emergency to attend to."

Looking slightly surprised, she watched as went around to the side of his desk. "Oh—and Foster? Where is she?"

"She's taking a little personal time." He continued to walk at a fast pace down the hall to his office. "What's with all the sudden questions?"

"Besides that you and Foster disappeared without telling anyone?" She inquired casually, raising her brow. "We're right in the middle of the case."

"I'm well aware of that, Torres." He offered, the tone of his voice laced with agitation. Closing his fingers around the object he took from the desk and stuck it in his pocket. "What did you and Loker find on Jacob Donovan?"

"He's having an affair. Quite ashamed of it too."

"Good. Invite the wife, the mistress and the husband in. I would like to have a bit of a chat." Pointing out, he walked out of the room. "That is what you wanted me to do, isn't it?"

Ria nodded, followed him out of the office. She flashed a surprised look, slightly taken back that he fact that he had just taken the words out of her mouth. "Yeah. I think Jacob Donovan killed his friend and tried to do the same with Frank Cole, but we don't have much to go on."

"You did get a base reading on him, didn't you?"He called back to her as he walked back down the hall. Shaking her head, at his quick ability to disappear, she went to go make the needed phone calls, as well as fill Loker in.

Pushing back the curtain an hour later, Samantha walked in to find an empty bed. Although they had put a few more watchful eyes on the room, they had gotten swamped and hadn't been able to get back until now.

Sighing, she knew that Gillian was long gone. The gown had been discarded underneath the pillow. When she had walked by the bathroom on the way over—it was empty. Still, she checked everywhere possible, but the good doctor and her bag of clothes were gone.

Returning back to the front desk with her chart, she informed the doctor and had just hung up when Dr. Lightman walked through the ER doors.

"Looks like he's back again." The nurse with brown curly hair motioned over to him as he walked over. "Sam, isn't that the man that brought the pneumonia patient in last night?"

Opening the chart, she looked up to see him walking over towards them in quick strides. "Yeah." Closing the chart, she slid it forward so that it wouldn't be in view. He looked tired; apparent that he had a long night.

"Dr. Lightman." Samantha greeted as friendly as possible. On her break earlier, she had looked him up on the computer. He was a psychologist—and an expertise in body language. The whole situation made her feel uneasy, but she was relieved that she didn't have to tell him the news. He was watching her closely, eyes shifting back and forth as he leaned his arm against the counter. "What can I do for you today?"

He was silent for a moment, like he was in deep concentration. Before he could answer, Dr. Tucker came bounding through the doors. Cal was still watching Sam; followed her line of sight, then looked back at her.

"You look positively relived to see him. Why is that?"

"Dr. Lightman. If you'd follow me. I can explain further." Dr. Tucker cut in. "Let's go somewhere private, shall we?"

"Nobody wants to talk in private, unless something happened." Cal stated, standing in place. Dr. Tucker sighed, closing the distance between them. He met some rather dark eyes and nodded in affirmation.

Dr. Tucker lowered his voice. "Unfortunately when got swamped, Dr. Foster chose that time to leave our care. I'm having security look at the tapes, but I'm guessing that she left about an hour ago—" Before he could finish his explanation, Cal closed the distance between them.

"You do realize, that's twice now that she's left under your care." He said, raising two fingers. And with that he bounded toward the doors and walked out.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I'm having too much fun with this story :) Also debated whether to make Gillian do the disappearing act...which actually ended up happening. Don't worry too much though-I do have a plan worked out. In the meantime, enjoy the growing friction between Cal and Gillian. It's bound to be explosive eventually, right?Was a little worried about the title and making it fit, but apparently the muse already did that for me :) The title is based "Sharpen Up the Knives" by Puressence. I have at least one other song that I used for one of the titles. Five points to whoever guesses it. Oh, and remember to review :)


	15. Escape Route

It couldn't have been wise to leave the hospital a second time, but she had. The clothes in the bag had been what she had been wearing the night before. Her arm was beginning to hurt slightly, and she didn't feel like slipping back into any of the clothes she had in the bag. Luckily for her, there had been a pair of maroon scrubs; sitting on one of the shelves in the room she had snuck into.

Quickly putting them on, she searched in the bag for some shoes and when she found nothing, she realized that she must have taken her shoes off before lying down last night. Then Cal must have brought her into the ER without any shoes on.

Searching around, she finally had found an old pair of shoes and stuck them on. They were slightly small for her feet, but they would do at least until she could get home. As she walked out of the room and out what she recognized as the employee door, she was led to the back of the building. A few people in maroon colored scrubs were leaning against the wall, chatting.

She nodded towards them, and found that it took a few minutes to catch her breath. For now she was more than exhausted from days without sleep. It had just barely sunk in that she had started to feel a lot better with the fluids and antibiotics coursing through her veins—but the more she sat there in that hospital bed, watching the clock slowly spinning down the time she was there—the more stir crazy she felt.

The more that it felt like a nightmare, the more panicked she felt. She would give anything to be back in her office, working on a case with Cal, Ria and Loker, but she knew that was a long time coming. Cal would never allow her back in the office after what she just pulled.

Even though the last few days had been slightly foggy, she could tell that he was getting agitated with the situation. He had screwed the line between them—literally. That she wasn't allowing him to help her. There was just so much that she couldn't tell him and there he was: pressing every one of her buttons in worry.

She sighed. If he hadn't found out that she was gone yet, he would soon enough. Samantha would be coming back to check up on her, which meant that she had to get out of here. The only thing that she had forgotten was to call a cab.

With no phone, no car—her only choice was to go down the street to an old looking restaurant that she had never been in and asked to use a phone. From there, she sat down at an empty table; glad that her bruises were covered by the scrubs, and her scrapes and bruises on her head were already starting to heal.

When the lady behind the bar asked her if it had been a long day, Gillian acted like she was one of the nurses at the hospital, looking for a nice meal—instead of being one of the patients who had just escaped. "It has." Her voice sounded raw, clearly filled with exhaustion.

"Can I get you anything while you're waiting?"

"No, thanks." Gillian offered her gratitude softly, and turned to face the door. She could tell that the woman was watching her closely, but then went on to washing the counter disappeared into the back.

Letting the chatter of the restaurant drone in the background, she let her thoughts wander. She thought of Cal, knowing that he had the best of intentions and she didn't know whether to be happy or annoyed that he had crossed the line.

He had been there when she had been attacked. In fact, if she and Agent Reynolds hadn't showed up when they had, she would have been dragged all the way down the street and had who-knows-what done to her.

She was faintly aware that a shudder went through her body at that thought. Looking at the clock, it was a quarter to eight now. Knowing him, Cal was just leaving home. He hadn't been at work for the last day—she knew that he probably didn't want to be there, but he had to go in since they were still actively working on a case.

He would probably be making a stop at the hospital and would find out that she was gone. The sooner that she actually got as far away from the hospital as she could, the better. So when the taxi cab had finally pulled up with a honk, Gillian felt relieved and had to slow her quite unstable steps as she walked over to the cab.

The driver had brown hair; a long nose and a slight accent. "Where am I taking you today?" Giving the address and directions to wait for her when they got there, was when she let her head lean against the cold glass. It was only when they came to a stop— that she realized that she had allowed her guard down and had finally fallen asleep.

"I'll only be a few minutes." The driver turned around and nodded, then turned up the music in the taxi. Since she didn't have her keys with her, she went towards the driveway and put in the code. The garage door lifted and she went in and closed it up.

It was a safe neighborhood, but she went and checked the front door—which was already locked—then quickly located her purse; slinging it over her good shoulder, she went into her room; throwing both bags onto the bed, she changed into a red shirt and jeans—instead of her regular work attire.

Heading into the bathroom next, she brushed through her hair; being careful of her arm as she drew her hair up into a ponytail. Turning off the light she grabbed her purse and went back out the front door and got back into the taxi.

"Where to now?"

Giving him the address once again—this time to the Lightman Group—she felt a little more alert, although still felt clearly exhausted. Sure that she was going on a second wind now, she just hoped that it lasted long enough for her to get where she needed to go, Gillian grabbed the keys out of her purse—as well as her phone and enough money to cover the cab fare and had him park close to her car in the parking lot. Ria and Loker's cars were already there, but Cal's wasn't. She handed the money to the driver and he told her to have a nice day and went off.

Unlocking the door to her car, she threw her purse into the driver's seat and started the engine. She checked her phone to find that she had two missed messages from Ria, Five already from Cal; two of which he left messages, then threw her phone next to her purse.

Grasping the steering wheel, she blew out. Cal could be here any minute—or Ria or Loker could come out the building. She had no idea what Cal had told them about the situation, but she could only guess that it wasn't much. Having her car gone from the parking lot suddenly would spark a lot of questions already, but she didn't want to be there when that happened.

Starting the engine, she knew just where she needed to go. Virginia was about two hours away. A friend that she had gotten back in contact with had moved down there about a couple months ago. Her name was Dr. Anna Keller back then. The last Gillian had heard, she had gotten married, had a daughter, and had moved down to Florida—just three years after Gillian had started working for the Pentagon.

It was out of blue that Anna had called her again, this time to let her know that she had moved back to Richmond—just outside of D.C, nonetheless. Also being a psychologist, Anna's husband had been relocated back here and Anna had started her own business with a few other people and seemed to be happy and healthy. Gillian had promised to call her if she ever made it down that way-they would catch up.

Picking up her phone and putting in her lap, she thought what better time than now to go down there. Digging in her purse; she took out the paper that she had written down Anna's number and address down, put in the coordinates and took her car out of park.


	16. Sweet Relief

I wasn't really sure how to end the whole case thing-but that's what took so long to put up this chapter.

* * *

><p>He didn't expect her to pick up, but had called her regardless. For the most part, he was worried about whether she was okay or not. The way he had seen her the other night, could very well be in her future again.<p>

The key that he had taken from his pocket had been something that Gillian gave to him—in case of any emergencies, he could get into her house. He had almost forgotten about it and had promised not to use it unless it was just that. Now he was sitting in front of her house, trying to decide if this moment could be counted as an emergency. It took him a matter of seconds, before he realized that it was.

In the back of his mind, he knew that he had already gone too far. If he went any further after this point, she might push him away—and even he had to respect that if he wanted to keep her as his best friend.

As he walked into the silence of the house, he sensed that the nightmares that she was having, were something that she didn't want him seeing. But he couldn't help but feeling something could happen now.

"Foster—you here?"

Looking around the room: he saw the blanket still on the floor, the thermometer that he had he swore he had taken her temperature with a dozen times to make sure that she was okay—before finally dozing off in the chair from her sleeping form—and the still mostly full glass of water that he had tried to get her to drink.

He looked in the kitchen and found it empty. It had been the same way he had seen it yesterday—untouched. Down the hall and he found her bed made up, with the hospital bag lying on the bed. Nodding, he found exactly what he had been looking for: something that showed that she had made it home.

There was still a quizzical look in his eye as he caught hold of the top drawer; slightly ajar from a hasty exit. He tried to think of all the places that she would go, but came up with nothing. He left her house, feeling quite irritated. Even more so when he had walked back into the office.

"Are they here yet?" He asked Ria, looking around as she had just hung up on her cell phone. Blowing past her, he went into the lab to find Eli sitting with his back to them, tapping a pencil on the desk.

"They're all here." Ria answered his question as she walked in behind him. "And they are not happy." Tapping a button on the computer, the box shield faltered—revealing the wife, husband and the mistress all together.

The wife was pacing back and forth, looking quite agitated and miserable. Her brown curls bounced every time she moved. While her husband was the only one that sitting at the table, he looked tight and uncomfortable. The mistress on the other hand was standing in the corner—tears in her eyes, staring off like she had gotten her hand caught in the cookie jar.

That was all Cal needed to see before heading into the box. "You need me on this one?" Ria inquired, stepping forward. When he didn't say anything, she dropped into a chair beside Loker as they watched him walk into the box.

"Sorry to keep you all waiting." Walking in swiftly, Cal closed and locked the blue door behind him. Although, he didn't really sound that sincere—more like he was just doing his job.

"My wife and I were about to go to my nephew's soccer game. What is this all about?"

"Right there." Pointing between his eyebrows and eyes, Cal continued. "That's what we call fake anger."

"I'm not angry."

Cal tilted his head to the side. "No . . . more like you're ashamed." Eyes flickering over to the wife, he inquired. "Does your wife know?" Turning around, the wife was rubbing her belly in circles. Lifting his eyes in recognition, he nodded as he read her expression. "How long have you known that your husband was having an affair? A month? A few weeks ago?" His eyes lifted again in confirmation. "A few weeks."

The man turned to his wife, desperation creeping into his voice. "I was going to tell you."

"I didn't want to believe it." She told Cal, totally avoiding her husband's gaze. Her arms were folded and she looked like she wanted to explode. "We've been married for ten years! We were supposed to have kids and have a happy life together. Then I found a hotel receipt in his pocket when I was trying to find his keys to the car one day."

Stepping forward, Cal dug deeper. "Sounds like it wasn't just for the business, was it Jacob? Did you leave because Brent and Frank found out about your affair?"

"I left because it wasn't like what I expected it to be. We went into a business as friends, thinking that everything would work out."

"That's not what you told me." The mistress turned around; her eyes dark, cheeks stained with tears, and her face was red from anger and crying. She stepped forward, until her body was leaning against the other side of the table. Her breathing was drawing in so rapidly that her chest was heaving. "You told me that they were going to pay—just like your wife."

"You sick, lying coward!" The wife muttered, stepping over so quickly that she slapped his cheek with all the rage of a pregnant woman.

The man moved his jaw back and forth before grimacing. "All you cared about was that baby. You never wanted to do anything with me, but go shopping, talk about the baby and what we were going to do. Every second of the day. That baby had more things packed into one room than we had in our house."

"Well excuse me for being happy that we finally could get pregnant! We've been trying for the last five years."

Cal intervened, before she could go on. Grabbing her arm despite her protest; he pulled her to the door, dialed in the code and instructed the guards to have her calm before she left. She had gone from anger, to extreme anger in a matter of minutes.

It took him as long to lock up, as it did to ask the next question. "Did you help him?"

The woman looked quite appalled. "No, I didn't help him."

"See, now that was genuine." Cal spun his finger in a circle. "But you did know what he was planning to do." Guilt flashed over her features, momentarily freezing her in place.

"I didn't think he was serious—"

"Shut up, Misty."

"You want me to shut up?" She challenged Jacob, stepping forward. Her eyes narrowed at him. "I've been quiet for too long." Turning back to Cal, she gave him an offer. "You want the evidence. Go to my car. I have a shirt that I was supposed to get dry cleaned for him. It has Brent's blood all over it."

* * *

><p>Taking off her sunglasses, Gillian slung her purse over her good shoulder and froze. She jumped when she heard a knock at her window. She looked over in relief when she realized it was only Anna.<p>

It had taken her half the trip down here, to convince herself to call ahead and let Anna know that she was coming down. Expecting someone else to answer—or the answering machine-she had picked up on the second ring.

They spoke on the phone for a few minutes. It was Anna who had asked if they could have lunch. Gillian had agreed to come pick her up. She didn't tell her that she already had the address to her office written down.

Unlocking the door, Gillian got out. Anna took one look at her and pulled her into a gentle hug. Gillian found herself, hugging her friend tightly; a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips and growing when they broke apart.

Anna gave her a concerned glance. "How are you doing really?" Sighing gently, Gillian rubbed at her hands. "If I'm remembering correctly-you're the best psychiatrist that anybody might want to be prodding them with questions." That got another smile. "But you were the worst at letting anyone help you." This time Anna sighed. "I saw the news report Gillian. That is why you came, isn't it?"

There was no judgment in Anna's voice. That is why Gillian loved her. She was the same way that she remembered her, and she was a sweet relief to her fears.

"Yes."

Anna watched her momentarily, sensing that Gillian didn't want to open up here—so she gestured towards some buildings across the long stretch of parking spaces. "Come on. I know a great place that we can eat. We'll talk there."

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Hard to believe that _May I_ has hit it's fiftieth page, after only fifteen chapters. As always, please review! I'm working on the next chapter now, so hopefully the next one will be up within a couple days.


	17. Catching Up

As they had walked into the restaurant, Anna had been greeted with a friendly smile; by a girl who was probably no older than eighteen. Her brown hair was in two braids that had been intertwined together. She was wearing a red shirt and black slacks that matched the inside of the building.

"Hello Anna. Brought a friend today?" The girl asked, having gathered up some of the menus.

"Yes, Katy—this is my friend Gillian."

"Oh, it's nice to finally meet you. Anna talks about you all the time when she comes in here." Katy gave her an enthused smile; her blue eyes shining brightly.

"Nice to meet you." Nodding towards her, Gillian offered her greeting softly; things growing into a comfortable silence.

"Just the two of you?"

"Yes." Anna stepped forward, lowering her voice a little. "Do you have a table upstairs available? Gillian and I want to catch up."

Anna understood immediately what she was implying. Her eyes flickered towards Gillian and then the stairs."We do. We've only filled the tables down here so far today. Right this way." She led them to an open space of tables and chairs.

As they had settled in their seats, she knew that Anna had purposely taken the seat across from her; to give her both space, and so that she could look over at her. She remembered that Anna always used to do that when they had met up for lunch at college.

Gillian opened her menu with a sigh and held it up. Her eyes searched the black print. Everything looked good, but nothing sounded that good to her stomach. However, she remembered that she was running on fumes and tea.

"My name is Bridgette. I'll be your server." She was digging in her pocket as she came to a stop at their table. She had black hair, olive skin and hazel eyes. "Oh, hey Anna. Here again?"

"Yeah. What's your special today?"

"We have our bacon cheeseburgers with avocado, topped with a ranch dressing. It sounds odd, but it's actually really good." Bridgette rattled off the top of her head. "It comes with your choice of French fries, coleslaw, or a baked potato."

"Mmm…You make it sound really good." Anna chimed in, searching through her menu again.

"While you're trying to decide—can I get you ladies something to drink today? Water? Soda? Tea?"

"Water."

"Do you have sprite?" Gillian asked, sensing that Anna was watching her.

"Mhmm."

"I'll have one of those."

Scribbling something down on the paper, Bridgette looked up at them with a big smile. "Okay, I'll be right back with your drinks."

"Thanks."

Gillian turned back to look at her menu, slightly hesitating her searching at the grumbling of her stomach. "When's the last time you ate something real?" Anna offered from behind the menu. She could sense the joking in her tone, followed by a big smile. When she didn't answer, Anna continued. "Still drinking orange slurpies and eating chocolate pudding?"

Putting her menu down, Anna was watching her with a smirk on her face. "Yes, it's my guilty pleasure. But you already knew that."

"Yeah, I do." Taking in a deep breath, her expression grew concerned. "You know, when that girl fell off the roof on campus just after we had graduated, it rattled everyone pretty good. And the two of us were working our magic, helping people to recover while we were struggling ourselves." Gillian nodded at the memory. "The fact is—that day—we were more than just psychiatrists, Gillian. We became friends with all those people. I'm not going to lie, it was hard. I felt like breaking—every single day—especially after the police ruled that the girl's death was suicide."

"I almost forgot about that."

"What matters is that we didn't shrink each other while doing it. And I'm not about to start—but what you're holding onto right now, I can see it's hurting you more than the event itself."Before she could continue, Katy returned with their drinks, took their order and then disappeared again.

Gillian took a sip of her sprite and her stomach started to settle. "I was helping a patient who had been blinded. She was scared and didn't want anyone to see her as she was. She had been blinded and raped by a copycat of the original killer, Andrew Jenkins. So I brought in the other victim to talk to her and as I was going home that night—"She felt a shudder go through her body.

"Take your time—" Anna prompted gently, placing her hands on the table at a comfortable distance.

"He hit me from behind." Raising her arms, she was only half aware that her eyes were filling up with tears and her fists were balled up tightly against her chest. "And I fell to the ground." The images started coming back as she watched herself relive the events over again. "I was just about to make a phone call, and I remember my phone flying out of my hand as I fell—"She swallowed. "—on my chest." Her voice raised a pitch, a tear streaming down her cheek. "He turned me over, and grabbed my arms and started dragging me across the asphalt."

As her screams echoed in her thoughts, Gillian's breathing began to increase, and Anna had to gently slow her back down. "Deep breathes. Remember, you're not there anymore, Gillian."

It took a few seconds to respond, but Gillian's eyes closed as her chest heaved in a breath. "I screamed and tried to fight him off—my shoes most have come off, and then I heard screeching tires. He let go and the front of my back, fell hard on the asphalt. I heard screaming—which was Cal's—and I screamed in agony when he touched me."

"He saved you." Anna whispered, understanding. Her words were encouraging her to go on.

Gillian nodded, feeling beyond exhausted now. "I found out later that Jenkins had told him that I was next. I could only imagine what was going through his mind, because he was just screaming at the guy and crouched next to me. I must have fallen in his lap, because we were both on the ground and I was just pulling in sobs to get away from him."

"Just like now?" Anna's voice was still gentle, as she placed her hands over Gillian's. She looked up into caring eyes as she wiped at her tears. Not being able to talk any further, she took another sip of her sprite. "That's understandable. Usually it's the people closest to us that we pull away from, especially the first people we go to after something happens. You taught me that one."

Their conversation faded, just in time to see their food being set down. Anna had ordered a burger, surrounded by crunchy, plump fries. Gillian had ordered some soup and a salad. It just sounded good to her.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"No, I think that will do it. Thanks Bridgette." The waitress nodded and walked across the room to another couple who had just sat down. Silently, Anna thanked Katy, who must have thought of their need of privacy. "This looks good." She watched as Gillian took another sip of her drink. "So this man that you talked about. He seems to mean a lot to you—by the way you talk of him." Anna offered, crunching on a fry.

"He's a friend, and the co-owner of the Lightman Group."

Anna rolled her eyes with a sigh. "Friend. So what does that make you?" She polished off the fry in her hand and picked up another one. "

"Co-owner."

"Ah, now that changes things." Looking at her curiously, Anna picked up her burger and took a bite, while Gillian finally took a bite of her soup; feeling good as it hit her stomach. She ate slowly, the nauseous feeling had settled slightly. They had both stopped talking and watched as the room filled up all around them. Anna was watching her again. "Have you been sleeping at all since?"

Gillian answered softly, her words almost missed. "Not much."She sighed, putting her spoon down. "I keep having flashbacks—of everything." Her eyes flickered up to hers, then fell so she was staring down at a spot on the table. "What did you mean when you said that changes things?"

"What I meant is that it sounds like Cal cares about you—a lot. I mean obviously you work with him, right?"

"Yeah. I detect voice analysis, while he detects why you're lying."

"Does he ever try to use it on you?"

"Cal, uses it to his advantage whenever he deems it necessary, He works hard with any case that comes into the office—" Just then, her phone rang. Wiping off her hands quickly, she reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. Looking at the caller ID, she saw that it was Ria who was calling and quickly pushed the ignore button.

"Let me guess . . .Cal?"

Gillian looked up from thought. "I would have thought that from all the times that he's called me."

"I'll take that as a no."

"Let's see … your phone has rang twice in the last couple of minutes. Does anyone actually know that you're here?" When she didn't answer, Anna spoke again in more of a warning tone. "Gillian?"

Drowning out her friend's voice, she read the text that came through on her phone. _We caught Brent's killer. Just thought you'd want to know-Ria._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Ah, it's almost October did you think of Gillian's friend, Anna? Reviews are welcomed, and definitely help the writing process along :)


	18. On Camera

It had become quiet after the security guards had helped Reynolds handcuff Jacob and Misty and had taken them out of the building. It was likely that Jacob would be charged fully, and Misty on a lesser charge for helping them out, but they would most likely be serving some kind of sentence.

Cal had returned to his office afterwards, while Ria had called Gillian. When she didn't answer, Ria had typed a quick text to Gillian— to let her know that they had caught Brent Jackson's killer.

But something nagged Ria about Gillian suddenly disappearing without a word. It wasn't hard to realize that the person she considered her boss, was having a hard time after being attacked. It also wasn't hard to miss that Lightman was also worrying about it. They all were, in their own way.

Five days ago, Gillian had been attacked after going home from one of victim's associated with the Andrew Jenkins case. It had been a surprise to all of them when Andrew had mentioned a colleague and they all instantly knew without a doubt that it was Gillian.

Lightman and Reynolds had run out of the building and she wanted to follow, but both she and Eli had been instructed to stay put. It seemed like an eternity as both waited to hear any news; the extent of the damage, if she was okay, if they had caught the man responsible—so many questions had gone through her mind, just like now.

Since the attack, Gillian had been jumpy and had been spending more and time in her office. There were always deep bags underneath her eyes, which concluded her fears that she wasn't sleeping. Whenever ask, she brushed it off like it was it was nothing—followed by an '_I'm fine', _which was clearly a lie.

Ria had already gotten used to breaking the rules and getting yelled at in true Lightman fashion, was nothing new. So when she got the thought to sneak into Gillian's office to see what she could find out, she was just passing the lab when Eli came out with a file in hand and practically bumped into her. "Sorry."

Eli gave his own apologies, and when he realized it was her, he added. "Whoa. Where's the fire?"

"I was actually about to go down to the lounge."

"You do know that the lounge is that way, don't you?" Pointing in the opposite direction, she was trying hard not to take interest down the hall where Gillian's office was.

"I do." It became silent between them, and she figured that the conversation was over.

"Come here." Eli gestured, making his way back into the lab."I have something you might want to see." Stretching out his words, he sat down at the computer and typed something in. A video feed of the office came up on the screen.

Ria looked around to make sure that Lightman wasn't about to show up, then leaned her hand against the desk. "You brought me in here to look at video feed?"

"Not just any video feed." The video began to play, revealing Gillian walking out of her office. She turned to the side, a glint in her eye.

"Go back." She gestures with her hand, and Eli rewinds the video. Gillian walks out of her office again on the screen. "Pause it." Pointing, Ria offered. "There. That's extreme sadness—to the point of depression or PTSD."

"You think Lightman knows this, that he would take half the day to go search for her?" She didn't have to answer, because what she would have said was written all over her face.

"No, I think Lightman is lying." She spoke a little too loudly and honestly. Eli seemed to be rubbing off on her, but she wasn't going to tell him that. Walking over to the door, she peered out. The hall was empty, but she came back in and closed the door anyway.

"How exactly did you get that from—she's taking a personal day—from the conversation with Lightman?"

She sighed, rolling her eyes back over to the screen. "I don't know. There's just something about the words he used—that and the expression on his face when he said it."

Eli leaned back in his chair. "So, why the sudden interest . . . in all this?" He gestured towards the screen that she was looking at with much curiosity.

Looking back at him, she had only been half-listening—then registered what he was asking. "It doesn't worry you that Foster just disappeared without telling anyone?"

He raised his brow. "Of course it does—we all do, but Foster has made it plenty clear that she can take care of herself."

Ria sighed again in defeat, running her fingers through her hair. "Yeah." Deep inside, that's exactly what she was afraid of.

* * *

><p>They had gotten finished eating, and Gillian offered her a short smile as she put her fork down on the plate. "Anna, thank you. I appreciate you letting me come down and talk to you."<p>

Anna smiled modestly. "Of course! Honestly, it felt like old times." Her smile faded slightly, "I know that you're going through kind of a rough patch right now. You did the right thing, coming to someone, and I'm glad that it was me. You've made a good start and I'm proud of you for being the strong woman, I know you are. But you can't go around, acting as if everything is okay, when it's not. No one can make you talk about what happened, Gillian—except for you." Reaching her hand, Anna placed her hand on top of hers.

"I know that now." Gillian gave her an appreciative glance and swiped away a loose strand of hair from her eye. "It's going to take awhile to find some normalcy." Taking interest in a piece of floorboard, she added with a far-away look in her eyes. "I can't go home at night."

Her tone was laced with concern and compassion. "Where do you sleep then?"

It took her a second to respond as their eyes met. "I sleep in my office—on my couch."

Anna winced at her answer, but Gillian didn't seem to notice. She was beginning to notice the extent of the turmoil Gillian was going through. "That can't be comfortable."

"It's doable."

"Any particular reason why you don't want to go home?"

Gillian closed her eyes with a sigh, expressing that this was a subject she didn't like to talk about very often. _Besides, how do you tell your friend that you and your husband divorced because he had a drug habit, and now you're all alone?_ But surprised herself by continuing anyway. "My ex-husband and I divorced about a year ago—"

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. We had been fighting for awhile. I began sleeping in my office, and it became kind of a comfort. Things were never the same after—" Gillian stopped herself from speaking. Her thoughts followed back to them giving Sophie back to Ava; then Gillian in tears, on the phone in her office, telling Alec that she was moving out.

"After who, Gillian?"

Her tone was laced with so much hurt; eyes burned with betrayal. It wasn't that she didn't trust Ava, but she had hurt her, when she had decided to take her daughter away, and that brought up a new hurt, knowing that Ava wanted to give her back."Sophie."

"She was your daughter."

"Yeah." Gillian licked at her lips, pressing them tightly together. Her stomach lurched forward and she took a sip of sprite, in hopes of calming it down.

Anna pressed a concerned glance in her direction; not missing the fact that Gillian had just paled to a degree. If she wasn't staring at anyone—which she wasn't—she would have sworn that Gillian had just seen a ghost. Instead, Gillian was looking into her drink, clear avoidance, a little panic and a whole lot sadness had just surfaced. It was quite troubling—although Anna would have been more concerned if Gillian hadn't shown any emotion at all.

"Deep breath." Reminding her, Anna offered her a gentle smile.

Gillian tried to take deep breathes, but her chest was beginning to hurt again. And her chest and stomach were clashing together like a boat on a sea in the middle of a huge rainstorm, which wasn't helping her any.

"Can you excuse me for a minute?" She heard Anna give a small 'sure as she was scooting her chair out hastily. She felt Anna's eyes on her, but there was no time to explain. Walking across the room, she stopped the waitress, who pointed her in the direction of the bathroom.

* * *

><p><strong>Author Note: <strong>Look like Loker and Torres figured it out. It was only time until their charming personalities came out :) Getting closer to finishing the next chapter, which you know that means-another chapter possibly in the next couple of days. Be watching for it ;) It's going to be a good one.

Hopefully I'm keeping everything in line. I'm going to give a little background on how this story has panned out before I began this story. Gillian had been working at the Pentagon for at least five years. (Early 2009) When Cal and her met, he approached her with the idea of starting up their own business-and there began the Lightman Group. She adopted Sophie around that same time, and a couple months later, her birth mom took the little girl back. Assuming that things went South after that, Alec began to get into drugs and they divorced later that same year-due to the stress of losing their little girl. Anna has left a little before all this happened. (2010) The Lightman Group has been completely established. Ria and Eli have already joined the group. Season one begins and of course, the episode "Blinded" is episode twelve in the first season. So I'm placing this story now in March 2011.


	19. the Beauty and the Tragedy

Cal sat there at his desk, leaning back with his eyes closed. He had thought numerous times, about getting in his car and scouting her down. He knew that Gillian had a GPS on her phone, and it was so tempting not to look it up and follow her.

He was her best friend, after all. And it killed him just to sit there, doing nothing. He had seen the signs, but had chosen to ignore it—for at least the first days after she had been attacked.

Slowly, he had watched her slip further and further into her work. Pretty soon, they had stopped talking all together, unless it had something to do with the case load that they were working on.

What he missed most though, was her smile.

When he had first walked into her office at the Pentagon, he was annoyed that he had been sent to another psychiatrist. He had looked at the card, over and over again; reading her name, Dr. Gillian Foster, until her name was on the tip of his tongue.

At the time she had been the Pentagon's staff psychiatrist. Not only that, but he had heard that she was one of the best; he just thought they were all crazy. There was no way that he wanted to talk about his life and what had happened—especially with someone he didn't even know.

Then when he walked into the room, his ways were forever changed. There was just something about her; the way her eyes sparkled and shined as bright as her smile.

"Dr. Lightman?" Heidi broke into his thoughts as she peered through the open door.

"Yeah."

"There's a woman outside in the lobby, looking for Dr. Foster. I know Dr. Foster isn't in right now, and so the woman insists on you talking to her. "

Cal leaned forward in his chair with a sigh. "Tell her. . . I'll be right there." As he stood up, he walked away from his desk, and then stopped in his tracks. He knew this was a bad idea and should call Foster, but he went out the door and down the hall instead.

There was Ava, sitting on one of the benches; her body was faced toward the window. With a further glance, he knew that the child sitting on her lap was Sophie.

"Ava."

The woman turned around, looking worse than she had been the other day. "Dr. Lightman." She swallowed hard. It was clear by the redness of her eyes, that she had been crying. "I'm sorry to bother you again, but I had to come."

"That Sophie?"

Her voice was almost inaudible as she kissed her daughter lightly on the forehead. "Yes." When she looked up, there were fresh tears in her eyes."Look—I know you're a busy man, so I'm not going to take long. I think Sophie can sense that something's going on. I've tried to explain to her that mommy isn't going to be here anymore, but she's still so young. Almost two, you know?"

"Yeah, I do know a little about that."

There was a sad sparkle in her eye, and Cal couldn't help but feel a warning feeling. Ava did look like she was going to tip over at any moment. "Do you have any children, Dr. Lightman?"

"A daughter."

"Then you know how I feel, about making sure that my daughter has a good and loving home." She went on further, not pausing to take in a breath. "I took my daughter from her—Gillian—and I regret it every day. I love my daughter."

"No one says you didn't." He could see that Ava was growing more and more panicked by the moment. "Maybe it would best if we stepped into my office."

Ava shook her head fiercely. "No. If I move, I'll probably wake Sophie up. She didn't sleep most of the night, which explained why the two of us aren't looking our best." She joked, but he could see that she was hurting and was holding tightly to her daughter.

"Okay—so why did you come here?"

"I lied. When I told Gillian that I had three months to live—I lied." Ava sobbed, trying to stifle it with a hand over her mouth, when Sophie began to stir. Despite praying that her daughter wouldn't wake up, her eyes opened; filled with confusion and glazed over with sleep. Her little hand reached up and stroked her mother's cheek, like she was telling her that it would be okay.

"It's okay, bug." Ava rocked her daughter back and forth. "Go back to sleep." Her daughter's eyes rolled back and forth, but the little girl shook her head in protest.

"No." She spoke softly, and tried to sit up.

"You don't have long, do you?"

Ava looked up abruptly, eyes wide. She looked like she wasn't breathing much, her face had grown pale. "Take her." was all she said before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and slumped against the window. Cal grabbed the little girl, and put her on the floor.

The little girl was startled, and even more so as she watched her mom grow silent. Her green eyes began to water, and she was whimpering. "Ava, stay with me!" Cal reached over and felt for a pulse. Ria and Eli came around the corner at the sound of his shouting. "Call an ambulance—call them now!" Ria nodded, pulling out her cell phone. He turned back to Loker. "Help me lie her down."

Stabilizing her head, they laid down on the floor. As soon as she had been laid down, was when Ava's body began to shake violently. They carefully turned her to the side, and a crowd was growing out in the hall.

His anger was getting the better of him. "Get back to work!" Cal barked at the crowd, and slowly people drifted away. In the meantime, Ria was offering instruction from the 911 operator. He checked her breathing and her airway, tipping her head up.

Eli looked up, asking the unspoken question. "Who is she?"

"Her name is Ava."

"I don't understand why she's here, unless she's a client." Eli offered, now kneeling on the floor; his hands continuing to hold her head steady. When he didn't answer, he added. "And the kid?"

"Now's not the time to ask questions." Cal chided, standing from his place and taking over for him. "Go call Foster—and don't give up until you get a hold of her. Text her, call her—but don't you come back without her." Eli stood, exchanging a quizzical look with Ria as he passed.

"ETA is two minutes." Ria chimed in; her eyes searching over his. Lightman was definitely covering for someone. _But why_ was the question in general.

"Okay." Eli offered, clearly confused at his request. "What exactly is it that you want me to tell her? Granted that she knows what's really going on."

"You tell her a friend needs her back. That's what you tell her."

* * *

><p>Taking in a deep breath, the door closed. She was in a black tiled bathroom with white walls—lined with sinks and a rather large mirror above them. Taking in the silence, she walked over to one of the sinks and grasped it so tightly, that her knuckles turned white.<p>

Letting out a sob, a stray tear ran down her cheek. It was everything: the divorce with Alec, losing Sophie, starting a business and moving out; that started it all. Now, it was the attack, Ava coming back, and Cal.

Before she had divorced, it had taken a toll—she had known that thing weren't going well after Alec didn't want to talk about losing their daughter. It had hurt both of them so much, thinking that they were going to be parents. When Ava returned and took Sophie, it was like a tornado hit. When Ava returned again a few days ago, it was like ripping off a band-aid off a deep wound.

The tears began to fall harder down her cheek, especially as an image of Sophie came back to her mind. It had been about a month after they had brought their daughter home from the hospital, and they had just gotten settled in. Alec had been late coming home from work and she hadn't been feeling the greatest.

It had been her day off, so she had spent the day with Sophie and did a little laundry so that things weren't piling up. She had lain down and had woken up later to cooing sounds from Sophie, who had been sleeping in her bassinet next to the bed. Her little fingers gripped around hers slightly and she smiled. Still, coming home to every day was the best thing ever.

Shaking her head from thought, the door to the bathroom opened. Gillian wiped away her tears and was prepared to act like nothing happened, but she was taken back when she saw that it was Anna. She gave her a small smile.

"Hey. You okay?"

Gillian nodded, turning on the faucet and splashing some water on her face. Anna handed her a towel and she gave a small thanks before answering. "Yeah. Just have a lot on my mind."

"I understand." She bowed her head, and Gillian read the concerned inflection in her tone. But it was a different kind of concern; one that had presented itself recently. Something had happened between now and when had walked into the bathroom. "I hate to cut this short—"

"Anna?"

"When you left—you phone kept ringing, over and over again—so I answered. It was someone that you worked with. He said that they needed you back." Resting her hand on Gillian's shoulder, she noticed a glint in her eye—but it still didn't convince her."Gillian—" That is until the way Anna said her name, made her stomach drop and her blood run cold.

It took her a second to realize that it wasn't about Anna's husband or daughter. "This voice, did it sound young or with a English accent?"

"He said his name was Eli. He didn't tell me a lot—just that they needed you back. That there was an incident at the office with a friend." At that, she immediately thought of Cal or Ria, but she kept getting Cal in her mind and that something had happened to him.


	20. Slow Motion

Just under two hours, she had arrived at the hospital—however, it seemed like longer. Everything seemed like it was going in slow motion. She had promised before leaving that she would catch up with Anna again and thanked her for everything.

When she got into the car, she had dug in her purse to call Loker, but found that her phone was pretty much dead. Putting her window down and turning the radio up, she drove all the way there; praying that she wouldn't fall asleep on the way, she was appreciative that she hadn't when she parked in the hospital parking lot.

Opening the door, she got out and steadied herself. Finding it suddenly hard to breathe, she leaned a hand against the roof of her car, and took a minute before finding the strength to walk across the parking lot.

The hospital doors opened, and she walked into a busy waiting room. The setting seemed familiar and it didn't click until she had walked in that it was probably the place Cal had taken her; it was the perfect distance from both her home and the office.

She stopped to scan the waiting room, and that's when she saw him. She gave a sigh of relief; that must have been what Anna had been trying to tell her before she left. When a path was cleared, she saw a little girl in his arms—sleeping.

Sophie. Her heart leapt—especially seeing Cal of all people holding her. Emily was seven when they had met for the first time. Ever since then, she had never seen him hold a child in his arms, and looking as uncomfortable as a fish out of the water as he was now.

He looked up at her, watching as she made her way through a crowd of people. She looked more worn than before, which pressed more concern. Some of the color had returned to her cheeks, and her body language suggested that she had less weight on her shoulders and a sense of relief.

When he looked at her, she could tell that he was fishing for anything; the concern imminent as she got closer. When she did, she touched his shoulder lightly in greeting and stood next to him. "How is she?" Her eyes flickered towards the ER doors.

Adjusting in his seat, he sensed the tension between them, and the heat rolling off her skin. "The doctor says Ava is stable. She had a couple of seizures when she came in to the office this morning."

"The office? I just talked to her yesterday."

He took in a sharp breath. "It seems like she lied to you about how sick she really was, love." The tone of his voice was genuine. It wasn't hard to figure out why Ava had come back: she had felt guilty for lying, and when she hadn't been at the office—Ava had sought out Cal.

Her voice was quiet, half in thought. "How long?"

"A week—at the most."

Eyes drifting down to Sophie, her eyes held sorrow for the little girl in his arms. "No wonder she was pushing for me to take Sophie."Just then, the little girl took in a deep breath in sleep. That was the finally straw; Gillian was so exhausted that a stray tear ran down her cheek.

"Want to talk about it?"

Looking up at him with eyes glinting with unshed tears, she let out a choked sob. "No."

He gave a subtle nod, like he was going to say something else, but stopped himself. When he said nothing further, she leaned back in her chair and close d her eyes. Almost instantly she could feel herself falling into a dream state—and before she knew it, she was standing in the middle of a dark road.

_It felt like déjà vu. Her heart pounding in her chest and as she turned not to see anyone but Cal standing there with Sophie in his arms and Emily standing beside him. They were smiling and calling to her to come with them. _

She couldn't have been asleep more than ten minutes, when she felt her hands on her knee. "Mommy?" Gillian gasped, sitting up. She was faintly aware of footsteps coming towards her—Cal's.

Cocking a bleary eye towards Sophie, her eyes flickered up to his familiar concerned glance. He was carrying two coffees—and when she sat up, he handed it to her. "Thanks."

"You're angry." He offered bluntly, taking a sip of his own coffee.

Sighing, she took another sip and let the warm coffee slide down her throat. "You're my best friend, Cal— but you have to understand that I don't want to be pushed and be asked questions, like I'm some client that just walked into the office." She paused, offering a small smile to Sophie who was focusing on moving the doll's hands and legs back and forth. Looking up at her for a brief moment, Sophie returned back to playing.

"Is that why you left? You know ever since she woke up, she's been playing right at your feet." He looked amused, gesturing over to Sophie, who had set the doll on the chair next to her; toddled over to the block table and was grasping a few blocks in her hand.

"No, that's not why I left, and you know it."Gillian offered, slapping his shoulder with meaning. She leaned forward, talking quietly to the little girl and taking the block into hand, before turning back to him.

"You're right. I do know why you left."

She gave him a look that equaled to "_don't want to know"_ and they both polished off the rest of their coffee. He took both his and her empty cup and threw it in the garbage—just as a doctor walked in from the ER.

"Dr. Lightman?"

Turning, Cal walked up to him. "I'm Dr. Lightman." Gillian joined him as Sophie clung onto Gillian's pants. "Ava. How is she?"

"I'm Dr. Keller." The doctor gave his greeting, shaking hands with Cal. "And this must be Sophie." The doctor had a rounded face; dimples forming as he gave a smile to the little girl, who was hiding behind Gillian's leg. "Ava hasn't stopped talking about her since she got here."

"So, she's awake?" Gillian smiled down at Sophie as the little girl raised her arms to be picked up. Knowing that her arm was still healing, she placed her hand on top of the little girl's.

He looked back at the chart in his hands. "In and out. The cancer is spreading quickly. It seems she had a seizure due to a high fever and infection. We administered antibiotics to help slow it down. We're going to go ahead and move her upstairs and make her as comfortable as possible."

"How long does she have?" Gillian asked, lowering her voice. Giving up, Sophie went picked up a toy, taking much interest in it.

"I think it's safe to say—that she doesn't have more than a couple of days. I'm sorry."

"And Sophie?" Cal piped up, looking over at the child. "What happens with her?"

"Ava is in talking with the social worker and discussing exactly what should happen with her daughter. Both the social worker and lawyer should be coming out to talk to you in about a half an hour." He looked towards the nurse's desk. "Excuse me."


	21. Protective Hands

Gillian felt like the wind had been knocked out of her—all for several different reasons. Hearing that Ava had only a couple of days, seemed to change everything. She remembered how Ava had told her about Sophie's father leaving, and realized that Sophie had no one.

But with her job being as demanding as it was—could she give Sophie everything that she needed? She had just moved into a new place last year, and was just barely starting to feel settled from the divorce.

How could she take on raising a child? Sophie looked so scared, the fear in her voice as the little girl uttered "mommy" over and over again—was heartbreaking. It broke her so deep that she wasn't calling to her.

Her heart ached to keep her safe, but her whole body was stiff as it beat against her chest. This little girl was losing something far more important: a mother. A mother who had sat down on the floor and played with her; who taught her how to walk and talk and learn, put her in the high chair and fed her every day; kept her safe and kissed her when she fell down.

Gillian looked across the room at Cal, who was speaking heated words with the doctor over at the nurse's station. What made it worse was the nurse who had been taking care of Gillian, had just come out of the ER.

Sinking into one of the seats, Sophie scrambled up onto the chair next to her, with a pout on her face; looking deeply confused. Not really sure how to diminish the confusion—or what to say to her, or if Sophie could really understand. Her thoughts already felt so jumbled, so scattered—and still: that pout was really getting to her.

It reminded Gillian of when Sophie was a baby. Just before the little girl would start crying, her whole face would scrunch up as she gave this pouting cry; that would only stop when she was rocked back and forth.

Sophie was grown up—no longer being able to fit into her arms as easily—but the little girl was starting to whimper now; despite it being a fairly loud waiting room of screaming children, chatter and ringing phones.

Ignoring the protest of her shoulder, she put Sophie on her lap and began rocking her, slowly. It was worth a try. As she did, the little girl quieted down, and Cal returned a few minutes later and sat down by them.

He was quieter than usual, which usually happened if he was thinking—then he spoke up. "You look like a natural to me, love." He gestured over to Sophie, who was watching a little boy play over at the block table. She squirmed out of her arms and toddled over towards him.

Gillian looked down at her hands, feeling a little disappointed that Sophie didn't want to be held. It just made it feel so much more real that her little girl had grown up. "It isn't that that I haven't been around little children, Cal—just not enough to know what they eat, drink, or even how to kiss their wounds when they get hurt."

"I'm pretty sure no one does." Grunting, he went and scooped up Sophie when she had strayed too far for them. The little girl gave a surprised gasp, followed by a small giggle—and then she squirmed in his arms.

"Want down." She protested, squirming even harder; her little legs kicking back and forth in the air. He didn't put her down, until they were standing by the block table.

"Stay close." He directed, knowing that she had heard him when she jetted her lower lip out in a pout—but quickly forgot about it as she grabbed some blocks and started trying to put them together.

He went back and sat back down by Gillian, who had her head turned in the other direction; towards the ER doors, specifically. Leaning forward to get a better view, he noticed her expression was thoughtful, but her lips were pulled into a frown.

She whispered, feeling his eyes on her. "I don't think I can do this."

"No one said you had to." The tone in his voice was sincere, but was underlined with caring that he didn't show a lot of. At least not like this. "Why are you rushing it, love? Just because the fire is burning, doesn't mean you jump into it. Obviously it is very hard for you to see her again. Sophie was your daughter, and Ava took her from you."

Her heart jumped as he spoke those words. Often, she hated that he pried, so it wasn't any surprise that he knew this. So why was she rushing it? Was she afraid that if she didn't force herself to do this? That the door would close on she and Sophie would be taken away from her again?

_Yes. _A voice drifted from the back of her mind. It was both surprising—an answer that she already knew.

She gave him a knowing smile, which was followed by a tired sigh. Hardly being able to think, he got the condensed version."When you said family, you mean: you, Em, Eli, Ria, Loker and Reynolds."

"Yeah." He sat back in his chair, watching as the ER doors swung open—but the doctor that came out, immediately went in another direction to locate a family in the waiting room.

"Cal—where do they think I am?" Inquiring, her question was followed by silence as he was preoccupied with watching a certain nurse, standing behind the nurse's station. The blonde haired nurse was looking at him, filled with recognition. Gillian was avoiding looking at all.

His voice still sounded distracted, as he turned and answered her a few minutes later. "You're taking a personal day—which isn't far off—considering what you've been through this week. I hope you don't consider your couch a bed, because I can lock the door if I have to." Her eyes narrowed at him. _You wouldn't._

Eyes shifting, he read what she was saying—just by the look on her face. "I would, actually." He spoke out loud, just as a lawyer in a black suit walked out.

The lawyer had short jet black hair; parted and combed neatly on his head. He had steely blue eyes that popped out from his rather pale skin. They both stood and he introduced himself. "My name is Corbin Grey, Ava's lawyer. You must be the infamous Gillian Foster that Ava keeps talking about."

"Yes." Gillian shook his hand. "My friend, Cal Lightman."

"Dr. Lightman." He shook Cal's hand as well, before going on. "I've heard a lot about you as well. From the news and magazines. Even have your book." Clearing his throat, Corbin went on. "As you know, I'm here to discuss the well-being of Sophie."

Nodding, Gillian looked over at Sophie, who was still happily playing with the blocks. "After much discussing with the social worker and Ava about the placement of Sophie. Know that we are aware that this was a decision that you were unaware about—up until earlier this week, and it is a big decision. We are also aware that you were not notified of the condition of Ava's cancer, until just today.

Granted under the circumstances, the custody of Sophie will be handed over to you—and this is a decision that hasn't been taken lightly—if you choose to take her into your care. If you choose not to, we will be forced to place her into the foster care system, upon the fact that Ava no longer has any relatives that could take her daughter, and her father has relinquished all parental rights before taking off last year."

"Ava said that he had left them last year, but she made no mention that he relinquished his parental rights." Gillian folded her arms across her chest; not defensively, but where they were standing was just under a draft of cool air.

"Yes. That is something that I've talked to Ava a lot, actually. She hired me after her boyfriend had signed all parental rights over to her. Now, technically she doesn't have any family that she could leave Ava with—"

"Technically, as in she does have family."Cal piped in, watching Gillian closely. Suddenly, he had the need to feel protective. His left arm, hung by his side just in case. The usual calm and collected, Dr. Gillian Foster—looked like she was about to tip over.

Corbin didn't as so much as blink as he clarified. "Her mother is an alcoholic, her father died last year. Her sister is into drugs, and her brother is in jail. So she does have family—"

"We get it." Gillian offered stiffly, holding up her hand. "Can I see Ava?"

Nodding quickly, Corbin added. "I'll see what I can do. I know the social worker would like to talk to you—and Ava has been asking for you." He stepped away, calling over his shoulder. "I'll go tell her you're coming in."

Cal put a hand on the small of her back, to let her know that he was there—and to keep her from wavering too much. He wasn't usually the hug-type, but when it came to his best friend—and everything that she had been through—she looked like she could really use one. So he gathered her into his arms without so much as a word, and held her close.

* * *

><p><strong>Author Notes: <strong>Sorry, this took so long to get up. Again, I just couldn't get it to work-though the last part definitely had a good touch. Please review! I'm working on the next chapter now :)


	22. For Now

She didn't try to pull away, just relaxed into his arms. Nothing felt wrong about this moment, but it kept her from curling up into a ball on the floor, when all she wanted to do was pull the covers over her head and tell herself that this was just one big nightmare.

In fact, it was soothing and the thought occurred to her, that Anna had been hinting curiously about the chemistry between her and Cal. Of course they had known each other for four years—had their ups and downs—but she and Cal had already tried to date a few times and realized that it wouldn't work with them being both business partners and lovers.

Her mind felt fogged as the warmth of his body soothed her tired muscles. For a moment, her eyes closed, then opened as the ER doors opened. Corbin reappeared, and gestured her to come.

Cal called out something about staying with Sophie and took a seat. When she arrived back into the waiting room a half an hour later, he was still sitting in the same seat. He met her half way and picked her up before she could collapse of exhaustion. Samantha, who had been watching at the nurse's desk, offered him a wheelchair to set her in.

"I'm fine." Gillian reassured both Samantha and Cal. "Cal, get Sophie." She inquired, resting her head on the palm of her hand. Her eyes were already starting to droop closed.

"Does that mean you're keeping her love?" He asked, scooping up Sophie into his arms and as the little girl protested, he put her on his shoulders, so that she couldn't get away.

Gillian eyes flickered opened, and with a tired sigh, she answered. "For now."

He decided he would ask what that meant later. Right now, he was formulating a plan that she may or may not like when she woke up. He turned towards Samantha. "Well, I'll make sure she gets the sleep she needs." He felt Sophie hold onto his neck lightly. "If anything happens I'll be sure to give the hospital a call—yeah?" And with that, he was out the doors with both Gillian and Sophie in tow.

Even though he had known Sophie for a matter of hours, he was starting to feel a weird sensation of protectiveness over her as well. Not that he would ever admit it. But what he would admit was that it had been a great while since he had been around kids.

As he took Sophie off his shoulders and placed her in the car seat that he had gotten from Ava's car earlier, he fumbled around with the buckles again before snapping them into place. Sophie rubbed at her eyes tiredly, letting out a yawn.

As he closed the door to his car, he hoped that she would nap on the way home. As he started up the engine and went on his way down the road, he looked in the mirror to see Sophie's head was resting against the side of her seat; eyes closed.

He contemplated calling his daughter, but didn't want to risk waking up either Gillian or Sophie—although he was sure that they would both be out for awhile. Looking over at his best friend, he knew that she wasn't going to be happy about the arrangement as he drove home.

As he got out of the car a little while later, he opened the back door and picked up Sophie. Making sure that Gillian was still asleep in the front seat, and took Sophie inside to the guest bedroom, and was coming down the stairs when Emily walked in.

"Hey, dad." Emily greeted, sticking her bag on one of the kitchen chairs. "What's Gillian doing in the front seat of your car asleep? And why is there a car seat in the back of your car."

Cal looked as his daughter. "We had a woman over at the office collapse today. Had her daughter with her." He knew his daughter could fill in the blanks pretty well. At least what she needed to know.

"But she's okay, right?" Grabbing an apple and balancing it in her hand, Emily knew by the look her father was giving her, that the woman wasn't okay. "So what about the little girl? What happens with her?"

"I put her up in the guest room." He offered vaguely, leaving her to put things together. "Do me a favor, Em?"

Washing the apple in the sink, she turned back towards him. "Yeah."

"Grab some sheets and blankets from the closet and change the sheets on my bed." He started heading out the door, calling back. "And put an extra blanket on there." He pointed, and started back towards the car.

She leaned against the side of the counter. "Hey, dad. I know that Gillian was attacked the other night, but did she agree to come here?" He turned to go back to the car, without answering. "I'll take that as a no."

When he opened the passenger door, he noticed that her head had drifted to the side of the seat. He unbuckled her seatbelt and her eyes fluttered open.

"Cal—what are you doing?" Her voice was thick with sleep; green eyes glazed over and focused.

"You fell asleep on the way from the hospital."

"I know you better than that. You really didn't think I would notice that you took me to your house?" She looked past his shoulder, then laid her head back down on the seat and closed her eyes again. "Where's Sophie?"

He picked her up, and offered even though he knew that she was probably already was falling back to sleep. "Inside." Not really having expected her to wake up, he hadn't planned on what to say to her. He knew that he was falling deep, but it didn't really matter why it did it, but who he did it for.

When he walked into the office every day, his day brightened significantly seeing her. He had never told her what she meant to him because of the bloody line, but after seeing her attacked earlier this week—brought out new feelings.

He loved her. Not just a best friend love, but he knew that he had been falling for her for a long time, since the first time he had met her. He asked her to start a business with him, because he trusted who she was. He found her to be a good match, a great psychologist; who never forget a voice, and just as stubborn as he was.

Carrying her upstairs, his daughter was just folding down the covers. "If she asks, I wasn't a part of this."She folded back the cover so that he could slip Gillian in.

He laid Gillian down on the bed, while slipping off her shoes. "Deal. Now go finish your homework." Emily walked out of the bedroom, closing her door harder than usual.

Covering her up, he placed the sheet and covers over Gillian. He placed the blanket closer to her if she got cold and walked out of the room. He walked down to the kitchen and pulled out a glass of water and filled it up. When he got back upstairs, he took another look at her sleeping form, and put the glass on the dresser; along with an Advil that he hid behind the glass.

Closing the door so she wouldn't be disturbed, he grabbed the keys out of his pocket and walked back downstairs. He scribbled down a note to Emily and Gillian, before walking out of the house, starting the engine and driving away.

It wasn't until almost a couple hours later, that Gillian woke up staring at a rather white ceiling, and laying underneath a rather blue comforter that was definitely Cal's style. She looked over at the clock that was sitting just behind the lamp on the dresser; stating in green that it was a quarter to six.

The house seemed too quiet and she remembered asking about Sophie when she had been talking to Cal earlier. _Inside. _His words came drifting back to her, just as she had fallen back to sleep. She had wanted to say so much more, but couldn't keep her eyes open.

Sitting up slowly, she saw the glass of water and Advil. She took a sip of water and got out of bed. She opened the door and listened. The house was quite silent, but she heard something that she hadn't picked up on earlier behind a closed door: tapping of fingers on a keyboard.

Knowing that Em's room was just across from his, she knocked and got no response. Maybe she wasn't here after all. But when she opened the door, she saw the fifteen year old girl: sitting on her bed, with the computer on her lap; earphones in her ears.

Looking around her room, Gillian realized that in the years that she had known him, or the number of times that she had been in this house—she had never been in here before.

There was medium sized bulletin board was hanging on the light green wall, with some pictures of her friends and papers and reminders. A desk; her school bag was on the chair.

Emily took the earplugs out her ears. "You've never been in here before, have you?" Shutting the computer, she set it on the bed.

She folded her arms and leaned against the frame of the door. "Not once, since I met your father."

"How did the two of you meet anyway?" Emily asked curiously, standing near her desk now.

"We met while I was working at the Pentagon." Her tone warned that she couldn't give the specifics. She listened and heard a slight cry coming from somewhere in the house. "Where's Sophie?"

"Dad said that he had put her in the guest room, down the hall."

Upon those words, Gillian sighed and left the room; Emily following right behind her. They passed the open door to the bathroom, and there was only one door left. When she opened it, the room was darkened slightly.

Flipping on the switch, Sophie was sitting up in the middle of the bed; tears flowing down her cheeks. Her eyes looked up at her, just broken. The little looked up at her with tears in her eyes. "Want my mommy."

"I know you do." She could feel Emily's eyes on her. "But right now your mommy is very sick."

"Swick?"

"Yeah." Gillian spoke softly, sitting next to her on the bed. Her hand pushed back a few stray blonde pieces of hair from her face.

"But me Hungwy." Sophie pointed to herself, hiccupping. Like she was asking who was going to feed her now that her mommy was gone. The doorbell rang and Emily offered to answer it, which left them alone.

That's when Gillian remembered that she had no idea what Sophie liked to eat. She took in a deep breath. "What do you like to eat?"

The little girl thought about it, her blonde hair all over the place. "Banas!" Gillian gave her a very puzzled look, when Emily appeared at the door; holding a manila envelope in her hand.

Stopping what they were doing, they both looked up at Emily.

"Who was at the door?"

"A guy named Corbin? Told me to give this to you." Stepping forward, she handed the envelope to Gillian. "What's going on?"

Opening the envelope, she pulled out a letter and a packet and began reading.

_Gillian,_

_Thank you so much for taking Sophie. I know that it's not what you wanted, but I hope in time you will see why I made this decision. I can't tell you enough, how sorry I am. I never wanted to lie to you about how much time I had left, but it came out wrong. _

_There may be so many things that you're worried about, but you have so many people in your life that care about you and will care for Sophie as well. _

_I know that it's a lot to ask of you—to take on raising a child. I was the same way, when I found out that I was pregnant. Especially after when I told my boyfriend Kevin about being pregnant, he left –I tossed and turned every night—worrying about how I could raise a child, with only a few friends and no family. _

_We went on and off and then split up for good after Sophie was born. We both decided at the time that we wanted to have a family and were going to get married. We tried raising her, but he found that he wasn't ready. _

_One night, I woke up and found his side of the bed was empty. It was a rough year and I had a hard time finding a place to work. Finally found one at a daycare and was doing great. Then I got sick and could no longer work, and I just knew that I had to find you. _

_Sophie really like bananas, chicken, broccoli. She's not really picky, so please make sure that she eats well. The only thing that she doesn't like is: spinach, peaches (she's allergic to them), and bees. That's the only thing that I know that she's allergic to. _

_Please…please take care of my baby girl. _

_All my love,_

_Ava_


	23. Bells and Whistles

Folding up the letter, she put it back into the envelope. A tear ran down her cheek and she wiped it away. "Gillian?" It took a moment for her to look up as Emily folded her arms and leaned against the doorframe. "I know my dad has a lot to do with this—bringing you here and everything." Her eyes seemed to be glued to the little girl sitting beside Gillian. As if she were asking who she was. "Anyway, I'm going to be making dinner. Are you staying?"

Suddenly, she felt a confliction of feelings. When she wanted to leave, she knew that would conclude with Cal pulling her back. She was angry that he had brought her here; put both Emily and Sophie in the middle of their silent battle, that wasn't really silent.

That and she would have to explain about Sophie, and she wasn't quite ready to explain that yet. And if she ran away, he would chase after her—when all she wanted was some normalcy.

Gillian nodded once, feeling the need to be alone and compose herself before dinner. "Can you take Sophie down with you? I'll be down in a few minutes."

Emily paused, and then held out her hand. "Sure. Come on Sophie; let's see what we can find in the kitchen." Her little hand grasped hers and once they had left, Gillian got up and closed the door. Letting out a sigh, she let the tears flow freely.

Everything that she had been holding inside for the last week, she couldn't hold in any more. She cried it all out, until she felt a little better. Opening the door, she walked into the bathroom and splashed her face was water. Her eyes were still slightly red, so she sat down on the edge of the bathtub.

Somehow, it felt like a breach of privacy that she had walked in here. Sure, she had been in this house too many times to name. Cal tried to get her to the house, at least once a month—especially during the holidays—at least when they weren't working like crazy on some case.

And that's when she really missed the work life—because that's all she had felt like she had when she had divorced Alec. The line had still been in place and everything had been fine, but when Cal had crumbled the line, was when she felt most shaky.

Because, to him—life was just a game, where there were no boundaries. She chose most times to be naïve and ignore when she knew that he had lied to her; feeling the burn deep down every time he did. That was who he was. Despite all his quirks, there was something passionate and dangerous about his demeanor.

Wiping her eyes again, she could hear Emily downstairs talking to Sophie. The little girl was talking so much, that she walked into the middle of the hall and listened. She finally ended up sitting on the top step, when it finally started to sink in.

Sophie had hardly said a word to her since they had arrived, and she didn't know why—but it hurt, and gave her another reason to doubt herself as a mother. Usually if she was talking to a patient about something like this, she as a psychiatrist would be concerned with what made her feel that way and the events leading up to the why.

The door to the house opened, which shook her out of her thoughts. She thought about not going down, but she had already told Emily that she would be there in a few minutes. It had already been about five.

Giving a sigh, she pulled at her shirt and walked down the stairs. She had expected it to be Cal at the door, but she was greeted with a boy that looked to be Emily's age. He had brown eyes and spiky brown hair.

Emily was stirring something in a pot; her back towards the stairs. The boy however, was leaning against the oven as they were in the middle of having a conversation. He stopped and looked over at Gillian, almost startled. "Em—you didn't tell me that you had anyone else over." Turning around, Emily smiled and slapped him on the arm. "Beside the kid." He added, rubbing his arm.

Sophie was playing happily with some books on the floor to the side. For the first time, Gillian noticed that Sophie was dressed in jeans and a pink shirt; a yellow fabric flower was sewn onto the side. Along with the words, _you are my flower_—that were written underneath.

Emily looked back at her, exchange a glance with her. "Sam, this is Gillian. Gillian, this is Sam. We got to school together—and Gillian works with my dad."

"Nice to meet you." He smiled gently, looking back at Emily. "I should really be getting home. I'll see you at school, tomorrow." With that—he grabbed his bag and went out the back door.

Emily turned towards her, reading the expression in her eyes. "He's just my lab partner."

Gillian smiled, standing next to her by the oven. "But you like him."

Emily gave a half-shrug, opening up the cabinet and pulling out some plates. "Kind of." She gave the sauce a quick stir and then placed the spoon on the counter. You're mad at dad, aren't you?" Taking the plates, Gillian began setting the table.

She was setting the last of the three plates, when she responded with a sigh. It was that obvious. The tension between the two of them this last week, was enough to set off bells and whistles.

Sophie got off the floor, and tugged at her jeans. "Hungwy."

The look in her eyes, told Emily that _yes, _she was angry, but she knew that wasn't all that was bugging Gillian. The way that she was around Sophie, she looked scared and apprehensive; as if she would break Sophie if she touched her.

Gillian slowly ran her fingers through the blonde strands. "I think we're just about ready to eat, right Em?"

"Yeah. About five more minutes." She looked at Sophie, then over at Gillian."I hope you don't mind. I kind of used the sauce from the jar. Not really good at this cooking thing."

"It smells good." She reassured Emily. "Where is your father?"

Emily shrugged again, turning down the stove. "He put you his room, and then I heard him walk out of the house. I tried calling his phone to see when he was coming home, but he didn't answer." There was a pause, and Gillian took the opportunity to collapse into a chair. "You know, he's been worried about you."

"I know." Gillian answered quietly, as Sophie climbed into her lap. "Sometimes I wish he wouldn't." She hadn't meant to say it out loud, but it had. "Thanks for the pudding."

"Thought it would cheer you up. It's just that you've been kind of distracted, since—"

"Thank you. Your father actually ate one." Gillian admitted, as Sophie held up one of her hands and put her hand in hers and smiled brightly. She smiled a real genuine smile, instead of it being forced.

Emily looked back to her, eyes wide. "Really? My dad almost never eats junk food."

"Junk!" Sophie squealed out, which got all of them laughing. They were laughing so much that they failed to hear the key in the lock and then the door opened. The laughter died as Cal walked in holding a bag of groceries.

Emily walked over and took one of the bags of groceries. He looked slightly relieved that she had been laughing. Somehow, she looked brighter and happier than when he had left. They both did. And the way that Sophie was sitting on her lap; her hand in hers, that things were far from over, but were just beginning.

He knew that they needed to talk, but that could wait until later. Not being able to ignore the redness around the rim of her eyes, he had expected her to still be sleeping, or to come back and find that she had taken Sophie and left.

When he looked into her eyes, he knew that she was still thinking about it. "Even though she wasn't looking at him, he could sense it. Lifting the pot off the sauce, he chimed in. "Spaghetti for dinner, Em?"

"Yeah. Thought it was my turn to cook, and I wasn't sure when you'd be home."

"Smells good." He kissed her on the forehead, and watched as Gillian put the bananas, oranges and apples on the counter.

"Nana!" Sophie's eyes lit up, seeing the yellow fruit being placed on the counter. He watched her as she didn't turn around.

Gillian was thinking about what Ava had said about Sophie liking bananas. It took her a moment to decide what to say. She had to keep reminding herself that she was in charge of Sophie now.

"Pwease?"


	24. Involvement

Usually Gillian would have sat down next to Cal when they all had dinner together. Tonight however, she had seated herself on the other side of Emily. Sophie had climbed into Gillian's lap, refusing to get off—but that could have something to do with the fact that she had a banana in her hand.

Before she could get it cut up, Sophie had stuffed most of it into her mouth. Emily was the first to notice. "Somebody was hungry." Gillian peered around and Sophie looked over at her, eyes sparkling with a devious smile.

Gillian took the napkin and wiped some of the dribble off Sophie's chin. She offered a small smile, and the little girl finished chewing—followed by a big gulp.

After that, it was a relatively quiet dinner. They had made some small talk, but usually it was awkward silence as forks scraped against their plates. Sophie had done pretty well feeding herself, besides getting some of it on her and on the floor. With a closer look, dinner was all over her face.

Emily turned towards her dad, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand. "Dad." She called to him.

"Yeah, Em." Wiping his face with the napkin, he threw it on his plate and began clearing the dishes from the table. He could see the concern riding in his daughter's eyes, as she looked over at Gillian, who was still sitting with Sophie on her lap.

"When you brought Gillian here, she didn't ask you to . . . did she?" She knew the answer to the answer was clear that he hadn't. "Then why did you do it?"

"Sometimes we do things for the people that we care about and love." Just as he said that, he looked over at Gillian. Their eyes met, and then she looked away and helped Sophie climb off her lap.

The little girl tiredly rubbed at her eyes as they walked over. Her little hand was holding tightly to the edge of her shirt. Gillian still looked tense, but gave Em an appreciative glance." Her hand touched her shoulder, as Cal walked off into the other room. She watched him as he touched his pockets, knowing that he had read her thoughts about wanting to go home.

"Thanks for dinner." She touched her shoulder in appreciation. Sophie was leaning her head against Gillian, eyes drooping.

"Sure." Emily nodded back, walking past her and reached into the cupboard for some containers to put the leftovers in. "You're not staying here then?"

"No. I really want to get home and sleep in my own bed."

"Oh. And Sophie . . . what happens to her? My dad told me that something happened with her mom and had to take her to the hospital." She paused, before turning and stuffing the noodles into the container.

"She's staying with me." Cal walked back into the room, and she let the conversation hang in the air. That and Sophie was now leaning against her, half-asleep. When she picked her up, she noticed that her shoulder was barely hurting now; even as the little girl laid her head down on it. She went upstairs to grab her purse and the envelope and walked back down. "I'll see you later, Em."

"Bye." Emily called back as she watched her dad open the door for her.

"I'll be back in a little while." He told her, as Gillian walked past him. "Get your homework done." He waited for his daughter to nod, and for Gillian to walk out before closing the door behind him.

He had barely closed the door, when she glared at him. "What were you thinking, Cal? Getting Emily involved in this?"

"Emily is fully capable of making her own decisions."

"She's fifteen!" She got Sophie buckled up, with only a slight struggle. "She doesn't have much of a choice." Shooting him a knowing look, she rounded behind the car and opened the passenger door and got in.

He got in a few seconds before she had and was starting the engine. She buckled up and looked out the window for the remainder of the ride. The passing scenery was a comfort to avoid falling asleep again in car again. And to take her mind off that she could hear Sophie breathing heavily in the backseat from time to time.

Every time she did, it reminded Gillian that she was taking this little girl home with her. Unprepared indefinitely for what she was getting herself into for agreeing to take her, Gillian wasn't exactly relieved when they pulled up in front of her house.

"You okay, love?" He had asked her as she didn't answer, and instead stumbled out onto the asphalt. The urge to just run inside was tugging at her, but a cry from inside the car brought her back. Chest heaving, she went around to the car, and noticed that Cal had already gotten out to help.

He handed a very sleepy Sophie to her, while he unhooked the booster seat. Slowly, she rubbed at the little girl's back, not knowing quite what to say. "You carry Sophie. I've got the seat." He offered, knowing there was no way that she could carry both.

Sighing gratefully, they walked slowly up stairs that led to the front door. He walked in back, to safeguard that both her and Sophie wouldn't fall down the stairs. And when she couldn't reach her keys, he managed to grab them from her purse and unlock the door.

Stepping into the house, she flipped on the lights. "We'll be fine, Cal." She fielded the look that he was giving her.

"It's not her that I'm worried about." His eyes were intense as they looked back over her. She looked so fragile, thin and worn. "Don't even think about stepping back into the office until you're better. I don't want you taking out the whole staff." There was a subtle smirk on his face, as he set the booster seat next to the door.

"Goodnight." She offered softly, brushing her hand over his shoulder as he left. He looked back at her, and then disappeared from sight. She closed the door, and locked up before taking Sophie upstairs.

Laying her down softly on her bed, she took off her little shoes and set them down on the nightstand. She let out a sigh; the comforter was pulled over her body and then she settled. Gillian's hand tentatively touched her blonde strands, before pulling the comforter up a little tighter around her and turned off the light.

She walked back downstairs, leaving the door cracked open just in case. Picking up the discarded blanket, she folded it back up and set it on top of her couch; then the thermometer and cup—setting them by the sink.

Looking around, she thought about Sophie and how she was upstairs sleeping. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, she poured herself a glass and swirled it around in the glass before taking a small sip.

Staring off absently, she polished off the rest of the liquid and poured herself another. As she took another sip, she thought about how she was going to have a career and raise a child.

She thought about what Ava had said in her letter, and set her glass on the counter. Forgetting that she still had her purse over her shoulder, she set it down and grabbed the envelope and read the letter again . . . then again for good measure.

As she pulled out the packet of papers next, she read vaccination and hospital records: a birth certificate that showed the name of Sophie's mother and father; her birth date and which hospital she had been born at.

At the time, that she and Alec were going to adopt Sophie, they hadn't gotten much information on her. All the paperwork were coming through slowly, and by the time that they had gotten everything, Ava had decided to take the little girl back.

That's when everything got hard. They sent everything back, but Gillian was sure that neither one of them had forgotten her birthday each year. _July 23__rd_didn't need to be marked on her calendar for her to remember.

Draining the rest of the liquid, she put the glass in the sink, and the bottle of wine back into the fridge, and thought about her life with Alec; his drug addiction, the marriage, divorce and how everything had gone down.

* * *

><p>Thank you so much for all those who are reading and reviewing! I hope you're all enjoying this cooler weather (at least it's getting that way here). If you're on twitter, make sure you find me. I usually give out clues on there to where I am in my writing and what I'm working on. You'll find me under the pen name: shapedchocolate.<p>

P.S. If you haven't heard . . . Kelli Williams is going to be on in a reoccurring role in the sixth season of Army Wives. She'll be be playing Jackie Clarke, the ambitious and well educated spouse of a general. Sounds like a great role for Kelli, and we wish her the best. Let _Lie To Me _live on.


	25. About Existence

Sitting out of a deep sleep, Gillian sat up in the dark and let out a dry cough. After the spell of coughing, she looked over at the clock and groaned. The neon green numbers flashed _5:13 AM_. She groaned and ran her fingers through her hair.

She could hear Sophie beside her, breathing heavily and stirring in her sleep. There was no way that she was going to be able to back to sleep now being wide awake. So she left the door cracked open and went into the bathroom and closed the door.

Letting the shower water run over her body, she had turned the water to as hot as she could stand, hoping that it would help her coughing that had most likely begun during the night. She felt like she hadn't really slept much—but probably the best that she had slept in her own bed this entire week.

Giving herself a couple minutes more, she could tell that today was already going to be a long day. After she had dried off and had gotten dressed, she went downstairs to where she had left the envelope. Pulling out the packet again, she looked for a contact number for Corbin and found a card in the bottom of the envelope.

Making a mental note to call him later, she placed the card on top of the envelope and made herself some tea. Because she was starting to feel shortness of breath like she had yesterday, she sat down and nursed the warm cup in her hands.

Taking small sips, she let out a few coughs and heard little footsteps padding down the steps. "Mama?" Sophie called out, taking it slowly going down the stairs. Looking through the bars at her, Sophie's lip trembled as she let out a whimper; looking quite disheveled and not quite awake. "Where mama?"

Walking down the stairs, Gillian could see the little girl was just trembling as she stopped a few feet away from her. She rubbed at her already reddened eyes, while her lower lip jetted out in a pout.

"Did you have a bad dream?" The little girl nodded, looking down at the floor. "Come here."

Slowly, the little girl walked towards her, as Gillian helped her climb up into her lap. Holding her for a few minutes, she continued to feel the little girl tremble. "You're cold." Standing up, she brushed a blonde strand away from her face and grabbed the blanket from off the couch and wrapped it around her.

After about ten minutes, she felt the trembling cease. Sophie had laid her head down on the same shoulder as before and she stood there, slowly rocking her back and forth in the middle of the kitchen.

The microwave oven showed the time was already six-thirty. Usually at this time, she would be eating a quick breakfast and trying to cram everything into those last few minutes before she had to leave for work. Today, she didn't even have to consider leaving the house, if she wasn't worried about having the necessary items for Sophie.

Just then, the shrill tone of her cell phone, echoed through the house. Sophie sat up as Gillian walked over and set her on the counter and dug through her purse. "Gillian Foster."

"My little sister, the doctor. You sound so professional."

"You do know that it's six-thirty in the morning."

She felt him mentally shrug over the phone, probably with a big smirk on his face. "Well, I knew that you were awake." There was an awkward pause as she heard a commotion behind him; an airport announcer that boomed through the speaker. "Look, I do watch the news, and I don't say it lightly when I hear that my only sister was assaulted."

"Ryan—"

"Don't do that…_Ryan thing _that you always try to do all the time. I've been trying to reach you for the past four days."

"I'm fine." She pressed; keeping one hand near Sophie, so she wouldn't fall off the counter.

"Look, I have a couple days off from work. I don't have to stay the whole time—but know that I'm not the only one worried about you. Sean talked about coming down and beating the crap out of the guy. Susan wanted to come down as soon as it happened." He took in a breath. "I told them not to come."

"So you told them that you would come instead." She took in a sharp breath. "The tone of your voice . . . sounded innocent, but the tone in your words has every intention of telling me that you're coming down here—whether I like it or not."

"You always did know just how to read people, Gill. Look I just landed at Reagan National about half an hour ago. At least let me see you." There was an awkward pause as she looked over at Sophie. She let out a sob, covering her mouth. Day six: nothing was getting better.

She had told both Ryan and Sean about her failed adoption, and divorce and they had both respected the circumstances. But now that she had Sophie back, she wasn't quite ready to explain that just yet.

"You're not thinking of hanging up on me, are you?" Ryan's voice brought her back from her thoughts. That was the last thing she heard, because she had pushed the end button of her phone -efficiently cutting him off.

Absently, she put the phone back into her purse, and let out a frustrated cry, tears springing to her eyes. "Don't cwy." Sophie reached out, almost falling off the counter in the process.

Grabbing her just in time, she held her close. Her phone rang again, but she ignored it and mustered a smile. "How about we have some breakfast."

* * *

><p>Walking into the office around eight o'clock, he wanted to be there sooner—but there had been an accident and had been stuck in traffic. Cars had been backed up, and it took him almost an hour and half to get to the office.<p>

When he did, he walked into the office and shut the door. Sitting behind the desk, he pulled up the video and whatever he could find when Gillian had been here. He was watching a clip for the second time, when there a knock on the door and it opened. He closed the feed and Eli appeared at the door.

He looked up sharply. "What is it Loker?"

"Oh good, you're here." Loker offered sarcastically, to no one in particular. "I almost thought that you and Foster didn't exist." He mumbled the last part.

"Did you need something, or did you come in here just to tell me about existence?" His furrowed his brow in irritation.

"No. I came to tell you that we just got a new case." Looking back outside the door, he looked partially preoccupied. "But I think you're going to want to see this first before we take it."

Making the suggestion, Loker walked out of the room. He got up, noting that the video feed would have to wait, and followed him into the conference room.

As Cal approached, he saw many of his employees gathered together; some sitting, others standing.

"_This is a great victory for God's soldiers across the world. For the first time, America has seen one of its own turn against us." _A man stated on the television. _"This was the only the first of many American bomb mortars who will attack in the days to come . . . "_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>When I was trying to see how I could incorporate the episodes, or even how to get Eli and Ria back into the picture, I realized that each episode that aired is based on a different month. Ex. "Sacrifice" - April. So I'm just going to say from the first of this story to now was the last week of March, and now we're into April. Hence, the recognizable episode coming into play.

Just a little background that could be helpful._ Ryan Thomas Foster_ is Gillian's older brother. He's four years older than her, and a pilot. He's married to Susan and they live in New York. When the I wrote this chapter-I had Gillian kind of reveal some of this stuff when she was arguing with Ryan on the phone, but just didn't feel like it fit when I was editing it.

_Sean Patrick _is Gillian's younger brother. He's two years younger, and an artist. He's married and has a little girl and they live in the D.C. area. They're expecting their second child (their first little boy in January). Now imagining Gillian as an aunt...well you get the picture.

Somehow I just couldn't imagine Gillian being the youngest child...but more like the middle child in between brothers. Hey, I had to explain why she was so tough somehow. Can assume that as she was growing up, she was probably very well protected :) And yes, I did go with the last letter names ending with "n". Ryan, Gillian, and Sean :)


	26. Distracted

Contemplating going to see Ava at the hospital, with Sophie in the back seat—Gillian had been preparing all morning to see her. That is until she heard the news of the bus explosion coming over the car radio.

Thinking about what Cal had said last night—something about this case, tugged at her. She turned around in a shopping parking lot and had gotten to the office within an hour. It hadn't occurred to what she was going to do with Sophie as she picked her up and went through the back entrance of the building.

Luckily, the little girl had fallen asleep just before they had arrived. Gillian had frowned at the little girl. It could have just been that the last little while had been rough for both Ava and Sophie, but she was starting to get concerned that she was sleeping so much.

Knowing that she was going to be out for a little while, Gillian took out her keys; locking the office door behind her. After putting her on the couch to sleep, she told herself that she would check on her in a little while, but right now—there was a case that would keep her mind occupied.

Most everyone was in the conference room, watching the ongoing news about the bus explosion. She spotted Loker and stood near him. He looked surprised that she was there, but he was focused on everything surrounding the bombing.

Then he spoke, ever so absently. "Weren't you taking a personal day?"

"I was." Eyes flickering from him to the TV, she took in a deep breath. "Cal is going to want to see this." She spoke softly, watching the ongoing news. She heard a rustling noise beside her, and watched as he walked out of the room.

He returned about five minutes and stood beside her. Cal gave her a wordless look as he passed; watching her stand there in a grey skirt and shirt, with a blue shirt underneath. It wasn't an understatement when he saw her there, after deliberately telling her not to come today. His words seemed to be hitting deaf ears, and that was irritating enough.

His phone rang, which brought him out of thought.

With all sorts of commotions in the background, he heard Agent Reynolds voice come over the phone. "Yeah . . . yeah, I'm watching."

"_Good, because we need both you and Foster down here—" _

Cal knew exactly what he needed them to do, listened impatiently. There was a heightened fear: in both the room and at the scene. The last thing he told him was that they would be there soon and then he hung up. "That was Reynolds. Foster, you're with me. Loker—you and Torres find whatever you can on this bombing incident." He waved out and he left the room quickly, with Gillian following right behind him.

His body language showed he was irritated, almost bothered that she was there. Although in his eyes, he didn't show much surprise. In a way, he had expected her to show up, but at the same time—he had wished that she hadn't.

"Where's Sophie?"

"She fell asleep when we were driving here—so I put her on the couch in my office." Rubbing at the side of her cheek tiredly, she ran her fingers through her hair.

"That seems the place to be—doesn't it?" Recognition sparkled in his eyes, along with a bit of disdain for this particular piece of furniture. He had covered her body with the blanket, after discovering that she had been sleeping in her office.

Giving him a look, she leaned against the side of the door. "Yeah, I suppose that was a bit of a cheap shot, wasn't it?" Inquiring, he already knew the answer, and started walking out the door.

She touched him on the shoulder as he passed. "I need to work."

"Sophie needs a mother." He stated firmly, with the keys in his hand. "When I had Em, I wasn't always there for her. There are things that I missed with her that I can no longer change. If you're going to keep her, take care. Let her know that you're there."

"You're hoping that I take her."

"I'm not just hoping, love." And with that, he went down the hallway and around the corner out of sight. The only thing that she could do was go back to her office and sit next to Sophie, who was still asleep. She ran her hand through her hair a little more confidently this time.

"I guess it's just you and me." Gillian whispered, picking her up and sneaking out the back door. After buckling her in, she drove to the hospital. It turns out the hospital had been trying to call her repeatedly to get some antibiotics to her for her pneumonia.

She also had Sophie looked at by her pediatrician—who had thankfully squeezed them in—assured her that everything was normal with Sophie. He sent out a blood test just for good measure and told her that the test would be back by the end of the week. But now was the hard part: visiting Ava.

Sophie deserved to see her mother one last time—but she worried what lasting effect this would have on Sophie. The little girl who had been constantly asking for her mother.

"Hi, can I help you?"

"My name is Gillian Foster. I'm here to visit a patient that was admitted here yesterday."

"And the patient's name?"

"Ava" Gillian drew in a breath, thinking of her last name. It had been forever since she had thought about it. "Ava Keller." I looked up at her, my eyes flickering around the room—then back on Sophie, who was looking up at me as I held her in my arms.

Her eyes were full of sleep; slightly glazed over, upon waking up just a few minutes prior as we were walking towards the hospital.

"Just a minute. I'll check to see if Ava is up for visitors." The woman behind the desk typed something into her computer for the information that she needed, and picked up the phone.

"Hey, Jen? It's Kennedy at the front desk. Hey—can you check to see if Ava Keller is up for a visitor." A pause. "Thanks."

Looking intently at her, Sophie brushed her hands over her cheeks. "Sad?" Shaking her head, she watched Sophie change thought while brushing her hand over her cheek a second time. "Yes."

"No, Sophie." Pressing her hands down, she knew that she was lying, unable to hide the sadness in the tone of her voice.

"Thanks." The woman at the front desk hung up the phone and turned her attention towards her. "Gillian—If you'd go over to that door, they'll go ahead and buzz you in."

"Thank you." Gathering Sophie into her arms, Gillian walked across the room. She paused with her hand on the door, hesitating before she finally pushed herself to walk in. A nurse directed her towards the room and showed them in.

"Sophie?" Ava offered weakly as she tried to raise her head up from off the pillow. The TV was on in the corner, but the woman wasn't watching it at all. Instead, her gaze had been on the door. She had been expecting them to come.

"Mommy." The little girl wiggled from Gillian's grasp and ran over to the bed. She reached her arms up to be lifted up. Gillian stayed standing at the door, just watching them.

"Honey, I can't." Her fingers ran through her blonde hair. "Gillian, thank you for coming."

Ava looked almost frail now, tears in her eyes. On her head was a bright green cap. "Can you come sit . . . please?"

It took a minute but she walked towards her and sat down quietly, beside the bed. Sitting to the side, the room grew silent.

"Gillian, I . . . I don't know what to say that will make you feel any better."

"I'm sorry. It's not you. I'm just a bit distracted."

"I can see that." Giving a weak smile, her hand brushed over Sophie's hair again. "And can see that this wasn't the best time to spring this on you." She gave a weak cough in the other direction. "But I didn't know what else to do."

Gillian blinked. "You couldn't have known."

"But I did. I knew that I had cancer—just couldn't afford the treatment. I thought if anything happened, she would always have her . . . always have her—" And then she grew silent. Putting a hand to rest on her shoulder, Gillian knew what Ava was trying to say. She had always thought that her boyfriend would be around, just like Gillian thought that her ex-husband would. She knew exactly how she felt; how shattered she felt, the tears that had constantly fallen, and how she had to piece her broken life back together as best as she could.

After that, there wasn't much talking. Gillian left with Sophie about a half an hour after they had arrived. Sophie cried for a few minutes after Ava hugged her, and she didn't stop until about ten minutes in the car, and resorted to staring out the window all the way home.

As they were pulling up into the driveway, Gillian saw a familiar face and groaned. This is not how she wanted her day to go.


	27. Hand In My Pocket

Sorry, this took so long. I did put up a message on the last chapter that I was participating in nanowrimo, but I guess that I didn't make it up. So, like you've probably noticed . . . updates will be slow coming until at least December.

* * *

><p>As Cal walked into the scene about fifteen minutes later, Ben Reynolds looked a little confused to why he was the only one there, when he clearly asked for Foster as well. In fact, Cal was prepared for the question, before the question registered to Reynolds.<p>

"Where's Foster?" It was like an 'ah-ha moment' as Ben peered around to make sure that Gillian hadn't stopped somewhere—or he hadn't missed her coming in.

"She's taking a bit of a personal day." Was all Cal offered as they walked through the scene; wreckage, blackness, ensued chaos, and a heightened sense of fear had rattled the city of Washington D.C.

"Since when does Foster take a day off?" Shaking his head, Ben didn't expect to get an answer, so he opened up the file instead. "Looks like the bomber, was nineteen year old, Jamal Bata. His parents conferred to Islam in the 60's. They're now deceased. He has no siblings, and he attended a mosque in North-East, D.C." Lifting his hand, he pointed out a young man that was sitting on the edge of the curb. "Right now, we're talking a friend of Bata's that claims that he couldn't get on the bus."

"Does the FBI, have anyone in custody? Cal inquired; surveying the damage, they passed a couple that were sitting in the back of an ambulance. The wife was patting her husband's shoulder; more in comfort as he held an oxygen mask up to his face.

"Just picked up the coach of the bomber's soccer team." Opening up another file, it revealed an older guy—mid thirties. "He's got ties to groups on our watch list."

"Okay. Can I talk to him?" Stepping off the curb, they crossed the street over to a different, less chaotic part of the scene that had been enforced with yellow barrier tape.

"Nah. Deputy Director Messer doesn't want anyone else in with the suspect."

"Well, she's got _Deputy_ in her title for a reason. Can we go around her?" Cal raised his brow, and licked his lips in anticipation; all the while pressing his luck as much as possible.

"Yeah—that sounds good, but that's just not how it works."

"Oh yeah? How does it work?" Solitary Confinement? Stress dispositions at Guantanamo? "His words were heated, as he was just getting started. Everything . . . all the frustrations that had been building up all week long were coming out as argumentative, and he didn't care.

"Calm down." Reynolds offered, exhaling.

"Oh—did you guys set up a new place now?" Pausing momentarily with wild gestures. Cal stood; observed five people that were lying on the ground in body bags—then turned back to Ben. "-what with all the bad publicity and that." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone. "You said something about Jamal Bata attending a mosque?"

"Yeah."

"I'll get Torres to take a look at that" Watching him turn away to make the phone call, Ben stood there watching in frustration. Something was seriously up. Cal was usually irritating, but something in his demeanor wasn't right. Foster was always usually by his side—which held keep him in line. But today: she was missing in action.

Taking out his phone—while keeping an eye on him, Ben pushed the speed dial and held the receiver up to his ear. Hoping that he could get some answer to all of this, he waited as the phone rang on the other end.

Pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, Gillian got out of the car to confront him, only to go around a unbuckle Sophie from her car seat. The man resembled her with his blonde hair and blue eyes.

"I get that you didn't want me to come—but I couldn't stand back without at least coming by and talking to you." Feeling the slight pull in her shoulder, she lifted Sophie out her seat. "You have a daughter?" The question almost froze her—repeating in her head like a dream.

"No." She offered sternly, still quite exhausted from the previous days of lack of sleep. Her eyes flickered up to his, knowingly. "This is Sophie." Introducing, she almost regretted telling him—just because she could already see the questions forming in the back of his mind, followed by the light bulb of recognition.

"Sophie." He repeated. "The little girl that got taken from you?" Taking a double look, he shook his head upon seeing the hurt expression on her face. He took a few steps forward. He had seen that expression many times before. "What happened?"

Hurt turned into pain, and he watched as she almost crumbled to the ground. His hands wrapped around her as Sophie clutched her arms around her neck. "Come on, let's get you inside."

Once inside, he helped her sit down on the couch. Sophie had her arms around her neck, like she was going to be taken away. Reaching up, Gillian tried to bring the little girl to sit down, but she only felt Sophie's hands wrap around her tighter. Her brother came back from the kitchen, with a glass of water that he placed on the coffee table—just about the time that she finally got Sophie to sit on her lap.

"I take it, you haven't been sleeping much. How long have you been feeling sick?" Sitting on the edge of the coffee table, he gave her gentle smile, like the one a big brother gives to a little sister when she wasn't feeling well.

Her eyes narrowed on his as she let out a frustrated sigh. There were many things that she could say to him—but the real truth wasn't one of them. Her brother could always read two things: when she was down, or when she was sick. Unfortunately, she was both. And the fact that he could always read her so easily—had always irritated her greatly.

"Sophie's mom approached me earlier in the week and asked that I take Sophie." She paused, trailed off and looked absently over his shoulder.

"Take her . . . why?"

It took her a moment, but she answered almost abruptly, and her tone was flat and pressing as she looked back at him. "She's in the final stages of cancer." He looked stunned just as much as she had been. Even though most of being stunned had turned to numbness. She could see him putting the pieces together—how she had come to taking Sophie into her home.

"You think you're going to keep her?" There was a few seconds between her thinking and the phone ringing in her purse. Absently, she reached in to where it was; pulling it out to look out at the caller ID, she was indecisive whether she wanted to answer.

Usually, any other day she would answer Ben Reynolds's call, knowing that it was probably about the case. Cal would have definitely have arrived at the scene, and Ben was most likely than not, wondering why he had come alone.

Pushing the ignore button, she efficiently cut off phone call so that it went into voicemail. That's when she noticed that his phone call added to the two missed calls that she had today. Half-expecting it to be Cal that had called, she was surprised that it had been Anna.

"Everything okay?" His tone asking _"Since when do you ignore phone calls?"_Although, he didn't say it out loud.

"Yeah." She spoke quietly, as Sophie grabbed her free hand as she placed her phone back into the purse with the other. Both watched as Sophie placed her hand over hers, and watched as the young girl marveled at how much smaller her hand was than Gillian's.

Tipping her head up, Sophie smiled proudly. "Your hand, big."

Gillian smiled back at her—then leaned in and began tracing imaginary lines around the little girl's hand. "My hand is big. Did you know that your hand is going to get bigger too?"

The little girl shook her head back and forth, while shifting in her lap. "Tickles." She giggled as Gillian traced her hand. "Me try."

"How old is she?" Ryan broke in, watching the two of them interact. He had a big reminiscing smile on his face, with sort of a distant look on his face.

"She's almost two." Her voice cracked, and she reached over and took a drink of water, before setting the glass back on the coffee table.

"I remember when you were that age." Ryan began, intertwining his fingers together. "Well, it started at the age of two when you use to carry around a doll in your arms. If anyone else touched that doll, you would let out this big screech. In fact—"He stood up from his place on the coffee table. "I have something in the car that you might like. Hang on—I'll go get it."

"Where he go?" Sophie asked, stretching her arms up, as they watched him go out the front door. Upon his departure, Sophie quietly hopped off her lap and went over to the window to watch out the window. At one point, she pressed her lips against the glass.

It had been awhile since she had been around a child. As she watched Sophie look at the window with fascination and excitement, made her realize that she had been given a second chance to be in this little girl's life. Many instances came to mind when she wished for another chance to see her again. And now that chance was finally here—whether she was ready or not.


	28. You Okay?

As they were driving back to the office, Ben tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to see if Cal was paying attention, or if he was zoned out in his own thoughts. Ben quickly concluded the latter, and focused his eyes back on the road.

Pretty soon, Cal was fiddling with tuning the radio, and Ben scowled impatiently. "Would you not touch the radio while I'm driving?" Grasping the steering wheel tightly, he exhaled. "Look—whatever is going on with you and Gillian is none of my business—"

"You're right—it's not." Cal confirmed, taking his phone out of his pocket and hitting the button to listen to his voicemail, before putting the phone up to his ear. "But if you really want to know—"Slightly distracted, he let the pause pick up a sort of a suspenseful outlook. "I think should leave that up to Foster to tell us where she's been, shall we?" Plugging his ear to listen to the message, their conversation was temporarily on hold.

When he pocketed the phone again, Ben chimed in. "So you're telling me that you don't know where Foster is . . . at all?"

"Nah, I know where she is. It's if she's stayed there that I'm worrying about." He offered vaguely, pointing towards an exit up ahead. "We need to head back to the office."

"Any particular reason—or are you just going to keep me guessing the whole time we're driving?"Slightly irritated, Ben continued heading up the road, while keeping an eye on the upcoming turn that he would be making.

"Guessing would be fun any other day of the week." Cal paused, patting his coat pocket. "That was Zoe. She's dropping off Em at the office as we speak. Some work thing that she has to go to because of the bombing."

"Good thing we're close by then." Pushing down the gas pedal, the rest of the ride over was silent. When they pulled into the parking lot, Cal stepped out of the car and walked swiftly towards the building: where he knew that Zoe and Emily were waiting.

When he arrived, Zoe was leaning against the front desk—casting concerned glances at Emily, while checking her phone. Their daughter on the other hand was wide-eyed with her hands folded across her chest.

"Hey. You okay." Cal asked, wrapping his hands around his daughter in a comforting hug.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." Emily answered meekly, as she pulled back; she met her father's stare. The building seemed rather empty, even though she knew that most everyone was busy with this particular case.

"You sure?" Cocking his eyebrow, Cal wasn't quite convinced at her response. He knew that she was lying, but there was something in her words that told him that this wasn't just about the bombing.

"Yeah. I'm fine." Her eyes flickered over to her mom, who was constantly looking at her phone.

"How about you?"

"I'm Fine." Zoe answered, looking at her phone again. "I was going to stay home with her, but the DOJ wants everyone in. Didn't want to her to be alone."

"I would have been fine." Emily broke in, muttering. Although a small part of her was okay with the fact that she was there—the other part was pretty freaked out about the bombing that had happened just recently.

"Department of Justice is the target." Stating the fact, he knew already that it wasn't going to help. The sparkle in their eyes, were no longer there. He could tell that she was worried: about their daughter's safety, her own, his, friends, neighbors, and especially the people that she worked with.

"That's why I'm leaving her with you." Offering she ignored the look in his eyes that were pleading for her not to go in. It was clear that he still had a special kind of love for her, even though they were divorced. "I have to go in, Cal."

"You know I don't see why you couldn't have just dropped me off at Dan's." Emily interjected, frowning slightly as she folded her arms tighter across her chest.

Zoe sighed, clearly not wanting to get this right now. "Because Dan's parents aren't home. And the last time that Dan's parents weren't home—"

"You're lecturing me about sex?" Emily inquired, her voice rising considerably.

"Hey, we have bigger issues here." Nodding, Cal chimed in; temporarily breaking the disagreement between his ex-wife and daughter.

"I wish that you didn't have to go in."

"It's my job. I've got to go." With that, Zoe efficiently ended the conversation and walked away. He didn't have time to argue, because Reynolds was walking back towards him.

* * *

><p>Ryan walked back into the house, as Sophie ran back to Gillian. Hiding behind her knee, he danced the doll back and forth, as if it had come to life. "My doll? I can't believe mom and dad kept this all these years." Taking it into her hands, Gillian smoothed back the blonde hair that was pulled into a ponytail. Her bangs were covering one of the doll's emerald eyes as she pushed the hair to the side.<p>

"They knew how much the doll meant to you. Even when you were a teenager—that doll was always close by. I know you didn't want anyone else to know that, but it was."

"Thanks."

"Maybe it can help you now." There was an underlining question underneath it all, as he sat back down on the edge of the coffee table.

"I used to tell everything to this doll when I was younger." Her brother didn't look surprised; knowing that he had often watched her from peeking into the room. Peering from over her knees, Sophie watched the doll with a sparkle in her eyes, and a big smile appeared on her face after Gillian handed her the doll. "Except, I'm not the only one who likes it now." Hugging the doll to her chest, Sophie rocked the doll as she hugged it to her chest.

"Like mother, like daughter." He watched her happily, as Sophie planted a kiss on the doll's lips. "If anything—do it for Sophie." She looked up at him, knowing exactly what he was asking her to do. "Do it for yourself, Gillian. But don't let this guy get into your head. This little girl deserves a mother that she knows is always going to take care of her, no matter what. A mother that knows that she deserves just as much happiness—if not more. I know that you'll talk to someone when you're ready . . . just please, don't wait too long." He stood, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'll be staying with a friend until Monday." Handing her a piece of paper, he slipped out the front door.

It took her a little while to move after that. Gillian stared at the front door as if it were some kind monster that was waiting for a fight. Gradually, she got the urge to stand. Sophie took her other hand that was idly by her side; the doll tucked underneath her arm for safe keeping.

Together, they locked the door; knowing that Ryan was already gone. He looked so uncomfortable seeing her like this. It was clear that he hadn't intended to stay long, but wanted to see her visually to make sure that she was doing alright.

A wave of guilt ran through her. Guilt, that she had let her see him this way. For making him worry, when he shouldn't have to. Yes, he was her big brother—and had every right to watch over her and protect her, even when she didn't want him to. Besides, this wasn't the only time that she had left him worrying.

Next came fear; that crept upon her, like a vine that was cutting off her oxygen supply. That led her to push everyone away that she loved: Cal, Ria, Reynolds, and Eli— especially. They all reminded of her of the night that she had been attacked. Her office, reminded her of the countless nightmares when she had about being attacked—and anxiety that coursed through her veins when she thought about where to even begin.

Things that she had read and learned as a psychiatrist—screamed at her to pay attention. Despite that she was the victim—not the doctor at the moment— Gillian was willing at this point: to throw everything right out the window, until Sophie had come along.

Before she could think of it further, there was a knock on the door. She assumed that Ryan had come back, but when she opened it, Corbin was standing on her front porch. "Ah, Gillian. I'm sorry to come by unannounced but I wanted to give you these."He took out some keys from his pocket and held them up. "Their keys to Ava's house and car. Now I went through the liberty of pulling everything of Sophie's out of the car. That is if you're planning on keeping her." His lips were pulled into smile, as if he already knew the answer.

"I am." The words caught her by surprise. Even though she had confirmed it in her mind—she had had never actually said the words out loud, until now.

"And she's been doing well here, I assume." He peered in, giving Sophie a half wave. The little girl stared at him with a look of recognition, but went back to hugging the doll. "Ava told me, that you came to see her today. Thank you for doing this. I've known Ava for awhile now and she doesn't trust easily. I think it'll give her some peace of mind before she passes away." Looking at her cautiously, he inquired. "Are you okay?"

"I just have a lot of things to think about." Gillian offered, hoarsely.

Pressing his lips together, Corbin nodded and handed her the keys. "Let me know if there's anything that I can do. Oh, and I've already talked to the social worker—" Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a card. "—and she's agreed to come in about three weeks to make sure that Sophie is adjusting."

"Thank you."

"Her name is Ashley Petelson." He pointed out on the card, before handing it to her. "She can help you with anything you need." Gillian nodded as Sophie toddled up and balled her fist around the edge of her shirt. "You be good for Gillian." Ruffling her hair slightly, he pointed out. "And the lip marks on the window? Good touch. I'll be contacting you later to finalize the adoption papers." With that, he turned on his heels and left.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Well a happy little ending to this chapter :) If you're reading, please make sure to leave a review!


	29. A Few Things

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang again. This time, Corbin stood there with a bag and a pink blanket in hand. "You might need this." Slipping the bag over her shoulder, he handed her the blanket. "Good luck." And for a second time, he turned on his heels and disappeared.

"Thanks." Closing the door, Sophie grabbed the blanket and tried to hold both the blanket and doll in her hand, but the blanket ended up falling to the ground. Hearing her grunt to pick it up, she toddled around with her hands full.

It started to dawn on her that she was now really responsible for this little girl, who had happily started turning around in circles in her living room. And really, her smile was contagious because Gillian began abruptly laughing; coughing even harder than she had this morning.

Quickly dawning on her, she realized that with everything going on—that she had forgotten to take her antibiotics that she had gotten this morning. Getting up, she felt slightly light-headed as she stood, then went into the kitchen. Her hand shook as she grabbed a glass and filled it up with water.

At that moment, she was beginning to hate that Cal was right about Sophie deserving a mother that could always be there for her. Swallowing down the pill, she could literally feel her energy draining as she set the glass down and walked back over to the couch.

As she unzipped the bag, there was a change of clothes on top of some toys. Knowing that Sophie hadn't changed since she had arrived, Gillian took her upstairs to change her. When they came back downstairs, she almost missed the muffled ring in her purse.

When Gillian checked the caller ID, she didn't recognize the number, but she answered anyway. "Gillian Foster." There was no response, other than the occasional words that she could make out from a TV in the background. "Hello?" When she was about to hang up, was when she got a response.

"Gillian. Hi, it's Emily." Gillian immediately picked up that her voice sounded distracted, although attempting to be upbeat. "How's Sophie?"

Looking around the room, she watched as Sophie got into the bag that she had put down by the couch and was tugging at her blanket. "She's good. Emily, is everything alright?"

"Yeah." Emily offered. Her voice faltered with every word spoken. It was Gillian that she was talking to after all—and someone that she didn't usually call very often. "Mom dropped me off at the office. She didn't want me sitting at the house alone, but I would have been fine."

"I'm sure you would have." Gillian agreed wisely. "Though, I know for a fact that neither your mom nor dad would forgive themselves if something happened to you."

"It's okay now . . . since my parents divorced, but sometimes I wonder what it would be like having a brother or sister around. It's kind of weird to think about some times. "I'm planning to go to college after I graduate high school, and all I can think about is how my dad's going to be alone. Not that he doesn't have you, and Ria and Eli—but sometimes I think he likes to scare them."

"Your father has his own ways of doing things. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Emily said, in a more determined tone this time. "I brought my bag with me, so I can get some studying done."

"You can come to me with anything, if you ever need to talk. You know that, right?" Gillian extended the offer gently.

"I know." Emily shuffled on the phone. "Thanks, Gillian." And then everything grew quiet. "I should go. I've got some studying to do, and a test that I have to take on Monday."

"Okay. What's your test on?"

"China, Egypt and Rome. So, basically everything that we've learned while in class. It counts as half of our grade for the semester. No pressure, right?"

"Something tells me that you will do just fine. So, if this test is worth half of your grade—how many questions are on the actual test?"

"I think Mr. Jensen said that there were a hundred questions on the test, as well as five bonus questions that would count towards the final score if we get them right; Which basically gives everyone a chance to miss five and still get a pretty decent score."

"Sounds fair enough."

"Yeah. I do pretty well in his class. So, I really shouldn't be worrying as much as I am."

"Emily, do you ever feel pressured to the point that you would consider something that you wouldn't normally do?"

"Like what exactly? I don't cheat, if that's what you're asking."

Gillian took in a deep breath and her body shuttered as she turned away from the phone and coughed. "What I meant was, do you ever feel like you're more pressured—"Reaching into the cabinet, she filled up the glass with water, in order to get rid of the tickle in the back of her throat.

"You're sick, aren't you?" Emily asked, matter-of-factly. "Is that why you and dad are fighting?"

"No." Gillian answered weakly, choking out another cough. "I'm a little under the weather." She admitted, putting the glass by the sink and went back into the living room. "Your father and I had a disagreement about a few things."

"Well . . . yeah. Both of you think differently, so there's bound to be disagreements. It's just. . . I've never seen the two of you go your separate ways. He loves you . . . you know? He always refers to you as his best friend. And I don't feel pressured to do anything. I guess it's just something that I've gotten used to growing up."

Gillian felt butterflies in her stomach as she recounted Emily's words _'He loves you, you know? _They played over and over again in her mind

"I know that my dad isn't the easiest person to work with. "

"I'll talk to him." Gillian suddenly felt a loss of her voice as she sat down on the couch.

"He's not the same. I know it's only been a day since, but I can tell that whatever is going on between the two of you is bothering him—a lot." Getting the last word in, Emily concluded with. "Bye, Gillian."

"Bye." And the two of them hung up. Gillian scooped Sophie up and went into the kitchen to get both of them some lunch. She wasn't sure if it was the sickness, or the fact that Emily just revealed that Cal was really in love with her, that was causing her sudden lack of hunger.

But she ate anyway, very slowly. After lunch, she put Sophie down for a nap and had some time to herself. She chose to lie down on the couch and closed her eyes. The only image she could see was of Cal sitting on the asphalt.

That whole night had been a blur: him holding her until the EMT arrived— to the time that she had been at the hospital. In fact, she would have fought them a lot more if he hadn't been there beside her. She started to feel guilty, but her eyes fluttered closed, and she saw him again. He was cradling, almost rocking her—over and over again.

The dream focused on his facial expression that remained stalwart—like the two of them were being filmed for some horror movie and they had somehow been frozen like that. A scream emitted as the imaginary cameras pulled back to show her sobbing, but somehow the scream didn't fit.

Was there another victim that she didn't know about? Her thoughts began to pull together as she focused on looking around, or directing the dream around. She felt the darkness around her. Everything she saw was darkness. When she found herself sitting up on the couch, slightly disoriented . . . was when she started to wonder what had actually woken her.

Another scream, came from upstairs. And she knew immediately that the screams hadn't been just another figment of her imagination. They had been coming from Sophie. She knew by the pitch that something was wrong as she got off the couch and walked quickly up the stairs into her bedroom.

Her fingers flipped the switch, with a burst of light in the room. Sophie was sitting on the bed; hot tears falling down her cheeks. Gillian's first instinct was that she had experienced a really bad nightmare. But as she stepped closer to her, she could feel the radiating heat coming from her body. Sweat had soaked through her shirt and jeans and as she pulled her into her lap. Her hand absently went up to Sophie's forehead, to conclude that she was feverish.

She wasn't prepared to even deal with this now. She had no baby Tylenol, or anything to give her. Having Sophie at her hip, she checked the bag by the couch, for any kind of medicine. Instead she found nothing, and pulled out a spare grey shirt tucked away near the bottom of the bag.

Grabbing the thermometer from the kitchen, she checked her temperature and found that she had a fever of 101. Gillian considered calling her brother Sean for support, but the only one that she could think about from her sleep deprived thoughts—was Cal.

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><p><strong>AN:** Hooray for getting unstuck from writer's block. For some reason, the whole conversation between Emily and Gillian, just wouldn't let go. No matter how hard I tried to change the direction to something different . . . the muse kept directing me there, so guess it works.


	30. Drying Off

Cal was sitting on the couch, reading a book when he heard a door slam. Looking up from his place, he felt differently about that slam; recognized it as being the same sound Gillian produced when she was frustrated or worried.

So when he heard another slam—identical to the last—he had already placed his book on the coffee table and was looking out the window as she crossed the sidewalk and he was already at the door when she trailed up the stairs.

She was soaked from the pouring, steady sheets of rain that had fallen out of the sky. He couldn't miss the wailing from Sophie, or the sheer-panicked look on Gillian's expression.

Without a doubt, he already knew something was wrong, before she could find the words to speak. His actions betrayed his expression as he shuffled everyone inside and closed the door.

"She's burning up, and I didn't know where else to go."

Opening the door to let them in out of the rain—he took Sophie out of her arms—and closed it. He took one look at her and left these instructions, "I assume you know that you know where the blankets are."

Her hand was grasping the edge of the banister, before he got the words out. She understood what he was trying to say as she slowly made her way upstairs. Sophie tried to fight to reach for her, but Gillian was already out of earshot as he brought the little girl into the kitchen and set her down on the counter. However, he soon found that only made her cry harder.

By the time that Gillian had come back down, he was trying to rock her, but was quite unsuccessful. He helped her wrap Sophie up, and then she took her back with a grateful expression. She turned her attention to rocking Sophie, and was only aware when he wrapped the other blanket around her shoulders.

"Thanks." She sniffled, from being out in the cold. Truth was, they would have stayed out in the rain longer, if he hadn't of opened the door immediately after they had gotten out of the car. "You never told me what you do when she's away."

"I read." He answered swiftly, looking her over. "You're positively soaked." He pointed out, leaning against the staircase. She could tell that he was wondering how that was even possible.

_With Sophie, screaming in her arms, Gillian starting walking into the pouring rain. She had been panicked enough that she had walked out of the house . . . without a coat, her keys or locking the door_.

"For once, Cal. . . I didn't know what to do."

_It took her as long as it took to get to the car to realize what she had gone without. Even running back to the house, she could tell that they were both already half-soaked. _

Without a word, he took Sophie at of her arms. She watched him walk into the kitchen with her still-crying daughter. She leaned against staircase where he had once stood, and let out a breath that she didn't know that she had been holding.

He appeared around the corner, startling her briefly. _How long had he been standing there?_ "You took her temperature already, love?"

"It was 101 even."

"It's gone up." He was displeased, yet a bit worried as she still looked partially in thought—but he gave her the space he thought she needed.

His words registered, and she ignored his last thought, as all she cared about right now was that Sophie would be okay. "How much?"

"101.3"

"No wonder she was sleeping so much." She followed him into the kitchen, as he opened the door to the freezer. "What are you doing?"

"When Emily was younger, I would wrap an icepack in a towel and tie it to her head. Usually it would soothe her to sleep, and eventually break the fever, before I gave her the medicine." Holding the cold compress in his hands, he went upstairs to get the towel and handed it to her.

Sophie tried to pull it off a few times, but eventually her eyes drooped the longer that they sat on the couch. When Cal had returned from the kitchen, both Gillian and Sophie had sacked out on the couch.

Grabbing a few blankets, he carefully tucked them around the both of them and turned out the light. And when he returned later that morning, they were still asleep in almost the same position that he had left them in.

Hearing the back door close, he heard his daughter call out to him. "Dad?" The only thing was that he hadn't been expecting her to come home until Monday.

"Em." He greeted, looking at his watch. "You're supposed to be at school in a half an hour."

"I know." She answered casually. "I have a book one of my friends wants to borrow over the weekend, but I'm staying with mom until Monday. And my friend is going to be gone after lunch."

"Did your mother drive you here . . . to the house?"

"No, I got a ride with my friend Amber. Mom is at one of her early morning meetings and couldn't take me to school." Emily changed the subject, before she forgot."Is that Gillian's car I saw parked outside the house?"

"It is." Cal nodded at his daughter, as he got a pan out and stuck it on the oven. "You know, I could have driven you to school if you needed me to."

"I know." Emily shrugged, leaning against the wall. "Are things better?"

"There was nothing ever really wrong with us. We went through a disagreement—like we sometimes do—but we're working through it."

"Okay . . . it's just that I've never seen you like this." He tilted his head, about to say something when footsteps trailed behind him—knowing who they belonged to even before he turned around.

Gillian was dressed in the same clothes that she was wearing yesterday, but her hair was down; slightly wavy from last night's rain storm. "She's right." The look in her eyes, told him that they needed to talk.

He gestured upstairs with a nod of his head. "Go get your book." Emily disappeared around the corner and left the two of them alone.

"When I was twenty, I had a boyfriend who I foolishly thought who I was going to marry. It wasn't until I met Alec that I realized the mistake I made—the signs I missed. Actually, it was just one of the things that drove me to help people."

"He hurt you." It wasn't a question, but a protective statement. Grabbing a pan out of the cabinet, he could feel himself gripping the handle—a little tighter than usual.

Her voice was literally shaking, bringing that night back. "He could have killed me—and I just stood there." Shoulders falling, he could tell that by the relief in her expression that she had been holding this in for far too long.

It was hard to read her at times, because she was literally guarded. Even when he thought he had her figured out, she surprised him. "It's not your fault."

Her eyes grew distant, as she relived the moment. "I punched him as hard as I could, and he ended up rolling down the hill that we stopped by. I ran to the nearest gas station down the road and called the cops."

"Anyone else know that he was hurting you?" Finally, Cal released his grip on the pan and set it down on the stove with a slight tin sound. He instantly regretted the motion when Gillian flinched slightly.

"He was arrested. I found out later that my brothers both threatened to hurt him if he ever came near me again, and I haven't seen him since." She tried to smile, but looked more uncomfortable than anything as she ran her fingers through her hair. "I'm going to go check up on Sophie."

Watching her leave, he relented with a sigh when he realized that Emily hadn't come down yet. "Emily, you're going to be late."He called up the stairs.

Emily hurried down to the kitchen, with the book tucked in her arm. She slung her book bag over one shoulder in a rushed manner, reading his expression. "I know, I'm going to be late, but I couldn't find the book. Where's Gillian?"

"She went to go check up on Sophie."

It was only a few seconds later, that they heard Gillian's alarmed voice echoing through the house. "Cal!"

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><p>AN: I know . . . pure evil. Those darn cliffhangers! Hope you all had a Merry Christmas and a good holiday. If I don't see you before January . . . hope you have a Happy and safe New Years. See you in 2012.


	31. Rockabye

Sorry for the long wait-especially after I left you with a cliffhanger. I was apparently threatened to no avail, by some people...like there will be coal in my stocking next Christmas :D But you should understand why this took so long to get up after you read this chapter.

* * *

><p>Ria Torres walked into the computer lab, where her colleague, Eli Loker, had been piecing together some of the tape, and going through the video feed from the mall. "Hey, has Lightman come in this morning?"<p>

"No." He answered in an almost, automatic tone without looking back. With a few clicks of the keyboard, he perked up.

"Is that the video feed of the mall?" She looked up at the paused video on the screen.

"Yeah. I got most of it put together, but had to stop early with the bad rainstorm last night." His eyes flickered up to hers, as he peered back and then showed her the feed. "I'll call Lightman. He's going to want to see this."

The phone began ringing, and Torres had an inquiring look on her expression. "What do you think it meant when Foster showed up yesterday?"

"It probably meant that Foster is thinking one thing—and Lightman another. There isn't a thing that he wouldn't do—and my guess is Foster has got him worried." He trailed off, upon hearing a click as someone picked up. "Hey it's Loker. I was able to put together the tape, but you're going to want to see this."

* * *

><p>When he walked back into the room, Gillian was rocking Sophie in the chair. As she looked up, she had a twinkle in her eye, but said nothing. Everything he needed to see was all in her expression. She had let her guard down. "That was Loker. He put together the feed from the mall."<p>

"Go." She put her hand on his shoulder as he drew closer. "I'll call you when the doctor comes in, or has any new information."

His lips turned up at the corners, as he watched her rock Sophie; dressed in a blue gown—wires tucked underneath and an IV wire that was hooked into her arm, after many attempts to get it in-they were both exhausted with being up all night, and it showed.

"Are you sure you're going to be alright here, being alone? You know the last time—" He was half-serious, while his tone held a teasing manner as he stood near the frame of the door.

She leaned forward a little in the rocking chair. "Go. We'll still be here when you get back." He nodded back in satisfaction, then left. When he was out of earshot, she began to run her fingers through her hair. Then a few minutes later, she was talking to her. "I'm sorry I left you." And that's all she could get out, as a tear trailed down her cheek. She wiped away the tear with her hand, and leaned back in the chair when she heard the door creak open.

When she opened her eyes, one of the nurses that had helped take care of Sophie came in. She had red and gold highlighted hair; green sparkling eyes and a voice of an angel. Her name was Angelica, a very fitting name. "Hi. I thought I would come in and see how everyone was doing." when in fact, she was not here, just to look over Sophie's vitals—but to make sure that she was okay as well. "Have you been sitting in that chair all night?"

"Most of it." Gillian confessed, beginning to rock automatically again. She watched her quickly take Sophie's vitals, in silence.

"Have you ever heard your daughter's heartbeat?" She offered, holding the stethoscope in her hand.

It was an odd question, and she wondered what Angelica was aiming at. "No, I haven't"

"Would you like to listen?"

"I would like that." The words were out of her mouth before Gillian realized it. The desire to know that her daughter was still alive, despite all the wires and sleep that had overcome her daughter's tired body.

Freeing her hand, she took the stethoscope. It had been many years since she had held a stethoscope. The one that Gillian had gotten from her parents after graduating was in one of those shadow boxes, hanging over the couch, downstairs.

Listening carefully to her daughter's breathing, she heard the beat of her daughter's heart. It was hard to hear the heart murmur that the doctor had talked about: still, the rhythmic beat brought a smile to her face. After she listened for a few minutes, Gillian handed the stethoscope back to Angelica.

Placing it back over her neck, Angelica sat down beside her with a sigh. "Dr. Jacobzi is an amazing doctor. I've worked with him for the past five years—and when my daughter was three: he operated on her without any hesitation, and ended up saving her life. I haven't seen a man more willing to save a life than he does."

Just then there was a knock on the door, a middle aged man with blue-grey eyes, wearing a blue dress shirt and black pants, walked in. Dr. Jacobzi. "How are we doing today?"

Angelica looked back at him with a knowing smirk. "She's been sitting in that chair, pretty much all night."

"Ah." He remarked, washing his hands in the sink. "Angelica—alert the media that we have a sitter." Dr. Jacobzi had a rather large grin on his face as he dried his hands off. He pulled a chair up in front of Gillian, and cleared his throat. "Your daughter has what's called Ventricular Septal Defect—"

"A hole in her heart?"

He nodded. "Correct. A Septal Defect is a hole between her right and left chambers in her heart. Sophie is also experiencing the early signs of Acute Congestive Heart Failure. In addition to the diuretic that we have her on—I would also like to add in a low dose of Digoxin, which stabilizes the rate and rythmn of her heart."

Gillian blinked. It felt like she was in medical school all over again. Except this time she wasn't completely aware of all the details, and her daughter was the patient. "What are the side effects?"

"Lower stomach pain, fatigue, drowsiness and confusion and headache—which we'll be monitoring her for while she's here. I understand you just took parental guardianship of Sophie this week, and so this is probably all new to you on a whole other level. I checked with all of Sophie's doctors and despite all the checkups, Sophie never seemed to show signs of heart problems."

"Until last night."

Dr. Jacobzi nodded again, opening the chart and scribbling instructions down. "I believe this has been going on for quite some time." He looked up, and clarified. "Between the last time she went in and now. I don't think it was any coincidence that waited until now to be addressed." And then he went back to writing. When Angelica put a hand on her shoulder, Gillian nearly jumped—and Dr. Jacobzi continued. "After the Digoxin is administered, we'll want to monitor Sophie over the next day or so. If she stabilizes fully, we might find we'll be able control this with medicine."

"And if she doesn't. What do we do then?" Gillian felt her stomach knot, as she looked down at Sophie.

"Well, we have a procedure called: _transcatheter device occlusion_ that would allow me and try to close up the hole, without putting her through any kind of surgery. We would do the procedure in our cardiac lab, under general anesthesia. And the last would be surgery where I would have to actually go in and close the hole manually." He stood. "Let's see how the medicine does first, and we'll go from there." He gave her a wink, then turned towards Angelica and gave her instructions to give Sophie the Digoxin. "If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask them."

Gillian nodded, her chest heaving. She shook his hand, and left her alone. She stood with Sophie, and placed her carefully back in her bed.

"It's a lot to process—I know." Angelica sympathized, drawing the medicine.

Wiping away a tear, Gillian carefully walked towards the door. "I think I'm going to take a walk." She called over her shoulder, before stepping out of the room.

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><p><strong>AN: **Whoa-that was a lot of medical jargon to go through and write. But still, it was all worth it. I keep forgetting to say: make sure to follow me on twitter for any updates, because sometimes I put up sneak peeks of chapters that I'm writing onto my blog. Oh, and please remember to review.


	32. Shut Down

Cal walked through the building doors, having wanted to turn around over a dozen times and head back to the hospital. His thoughts had been on how he could get her to open up—having just reached the first week mark since the attack, then Sophie.

They had hardly spoken—and when they had talked, it was all small talk. Yesterday morning, after she had told him about her abusive her boyfriend that happened almost fifteen years ago, he could feel the anger burning in her words. However, the look on her face was expressionless.

In fact, most of this week had been directed to anger—and he had to tell himself that this was just a stage. It was apparent yet to the human eye, but Gillian was starting to fall apart, and it was time to consult someone about this. He realized that he could no longer depend on his opinion alone.

He should have done something sooner, but he thought that he could help. Instead, he was getting nowhere with her. It was the same way as it had always been. She was pushing him away, and he knew it. He had always known it, but it didn't seem to matter at the time, as much as it did now.

"I've been calling your phone for the past half an hour. What's going on between you and Foster?" Ria Torres inquired, following behind him as they walked down the hall. He gave her a questioning look, as if he were asking her, "_Does this look like any of your business?"_

"It's not—" She took him off-guard, by answering his question. Suddenly, he questioned if he had said that out loud, but she said nothing further. He continued to walk down the hall to the computer lab, catching her expression from the corner of his eye.

"Say whatever it is that you're thinking."

"It's just that you haven't been yourself since Foster was attacked—"Torres began to explain; her expression changed at his reaction of Foster's name. "You're thoroughly frustrated that she hasn't told you anything." Cal's eyebrow rose in irritation as he stopped to face her.

"She doesn't have to say anything. She's been through a lot—and you know just as well as I do that expression speak louder than words." Despite the fact that Gillian was going through a lot right now, what he just said was a lie. He did wish that she would say something about the attack. "Should we go in, or are we just going to sit out here all day?"

"No—" Ria gave a slight shake of her head; eyes drifting down the hall. She almost thought about telling him that she would meet him in there, but he foiled that plan when he held the door open.

"Good. Shall we?" He didn't move until she had gone in—almost as if he knew what she was up to.

Ben Reynolds, Deputy Director Messer and Eli Loker were in the middle of discussing something when they walked in. Other agents were also standing around and conversing about life matters—even letting out a laugh or two.

"Show me what you've got." Cal licked at his lips, turning his attention towards the screen and not towards Ben, who was looking him over. Momentarily, everything grew silent at his arrival, until Loker began explaining the video feed from the bus.

"These are the two suicide bombers—moments before detonation. Their body language . . . is paradoxical."Loker paused the feed where Jamal Bata was walking down the aisle of the bus.

"You should try using smaller words that mean more." Reynolds spoke up with irritation.

"Terrorists usually are afraid of being spotted, so they keep their heads down and avoid making eye contact." Cal chimed in, as he walked to the front of the room.

"Right—but check out the video from the bus. Jamal's got his head up. He's making eye contact with the other passengers. And look at the mall bombing." Zooming into the video feed, Loker pointed out. "He's flirting with that woman. He's got a classic head tilt. He's squared his hips to face her. He's leaning in.

"Yeah. Maybe he pulled her in to kill her." Deputy Director Messer suggested, stepping forward.

"No, there's nothing on his face. He's too relaxed for a suicide mission." Cal defused the thought with ease.

"So, you're saying that he didn't know?" Reynolds piped in, with growing concern. If it was true—they had been looking at this wrong from the beginning.

"Rasheed didn't fit the profile. He had no history of violence."

"Well, that would explain why Torres didn't see any anxiety when she talked to him." Eli pieced together, looking around the room.

"So, no anxiety." Cal went through the tape again, of Jamal Bata putting in his earplugs and then paused the feed again. "No determination." Then looked down at the other paused screen— Rasheed standing next to the girl at the mall. "These are the faces of innocence. . . not suicide bombers."

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><p>It took her a few minutes to think about it—the exhaustion kicked in as she walked slowly walked down the hospital hall. Wiping at her eyes, she ignored the sympathetic looks and took the elevator down to the main level.<p>

By the time Gillian had gotten there, she scurried off to the bathroom and emptied the contents of her stomach into the nearest stall. She avoided her reflection when she washed her hands, and headed straight towards the sliding doors—where she sat down on an empty bench.

She could feel sobs rising through her body, and she knew deep down that this wasn't normal. Grabbing her phone out of her purse, Gillian stared at it. She had promised Cal that if the doctor told her anything that she would call him—but she could barely get the words out when his phone went to voicemail. . .so she hung up.

Another five minutes went by and she called again, straining out the words. "Cal, I need you to call me." Then she hung up and dialed another number. "Yes, can I please speak to Anna Keller?"

_She's in a meeting with a client. Can I have her call you back when she gets out? _

"Yes. Have her call Gillian Foster. She has my number to reach me." Gillian sighed, deeply rubbing at her forehead, as if there was an itch she just couldn't scratch. She was surprised when she looked up to see Cal walking towards her.

_I will have her call her as soon as she gets out of her meeting, Gillian. _

Gillian stood from the bench, wavering slightly, then decided that it would be better to sit back down. "Thanks." By that point, she was blinking back the tears, as her phone fell into her lap—and she felt him sit beside her.

"You sounded distraught on the phone, so I came." Cal offered quietly. She mustered a smile, but still felt so guilty for pushing him away. "I take it you have some bad news to tell."

Wiping away her tears, Gillian nodded. "I just called you about ten minutes ago, so you must have already been on your way here when I called."

"I was actually on my way to talk to a man who may know something about the bombings. How are you holding up . . . with everything?" She watched him, with a careful tilt of her head. What? Do I have something stuck to my chin?"

"The way you hesitated on the way you said 'I'. You actually meant to say 'we'."

"Okay. So I locked Reynolds in the car." Giving the slightest hint of a smile, she raised her eyebrows at him. "And Torres too. They think I'm stopping in to see a friend. Well, technically a friend of a friend."

"Ava."

"Yeah. Heard anything yet?"

"No." Gillian took in a deep breath, and looked away. "Sophie and I went to see her—" The words caught in Gillian's throat, with a sparkle in her eye. "—a couple days ago. She just looked so frail—like she could shut down at any time."

"Just think of it this way . . . Ava won't be hurting anymore. And she knows that her daughter will be well taken care of."

"I know." As the wind blew around them, Gillian folded her arms into her body. Since the rainstorm last night, it was a cooler day.

"Let me give you a ride home. If either Torres or Reynolds gives you a hard time—we could just lock them in the trunk." Cal smiled, holding his arm out to her. She had to stifle a laugh; imagining Cal and her trying to wrestle them down. Once she had stopped laughing, he helped her up from the bench.

"Thanks, I really needed that."

"Just as long as you promise not to shut me out completely." He smiled brilliantly as they walked through the parking lot.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>A bit of Callian shined through at the end. Wasn't the exact way I wanted this chapter to go, but it's something. I'm thinking that I have some silent readers out there-or no one's reading. I've started quite a few plots within the story, so hopefully I'm not leaving any major plot holes along the way and that you're still enjoying the story when it first began.

Can't believe that this story is already Thirty two chapters, 51,000 + words and ninety-seven pages long, already.


	33. First Explanation

Thanks for all the nice comments! :) I'm glad that you're all still reading. This is an all Callian chapter, with just a hint of Reynolds and Torres. See you at the end of the chapter. Don't forget to review!

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><p>The ride was a little more awkward than usual. Torres was sitting next to her, while Cal drove and Reynolds sat in the passenger seat. Cal was trying not to glance in the rearview mirror; with two extra sets of prying eyes, it was harder than it looked to not notice the elephant in the car.<p>

Despite looking out the window as much as possible, Gillian could sense the air was filling up with questionable thoughts—quite possibly her own. _What possessed you to ride in a car with two people you've been avoiding since your attack? _She had promised to call when she had any answers about Sophie. She could see the spark in Cal's eyes, and hear the pain in his voice when she left her emotions unguarded about her—she owed him that—just like she owed the other two people in the car an explanation as well, but not now.

Her eyes flickered to the rearview mirror, his eyes holding a questionable concern when their eyes connected, once or twice. _It's just going to be ten times harder to tell him that you might lose Sophie, the longer you wait. _Breaking off the warning thought, Gillian kept extra focus on the passing scenery until they had arrived.

It took a minute to notice that they were at the mosque, not her house when they had come to a complete stop. It was faint, but Gillian remembered Cal saying something about going to talk to someone about the case.

Cal unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car. Reynolds and Torres followed along, with confusion written all over their faces. "Are you going to tell us what's going on? Like how you were going to see a "friend" at the hospital, but just happened to meet Gillian while you were there? You said that Gillian was taking a few days off. So what's she doing at a hospital?"

"That part I did kind of leave out, didn't I?" Cal cocked his head to the side, as if he were bluntly unaware of the situation he had just caused. "Well that and it's not really my story to tell, is it? I'll let her tell you about it when she feels good and ready. Otherwise, we have a case to solve, and I'm sure it's not going to solve itself." Reynolds stood there momentarily, then nodded and walked away so it was just him and Torres.

"If you really expect him to believe that crap, then you really are crazy. Whatever it is that's going on between you and Foster, then that's your business—but don't expect us to play along with it." And with those words, she started to walk away, which allowed Cal to walk back to the car where Gillian stayed put. What he didn't realize was that Torres had stopped and was watching them closely.

Cal opened the door to the car, took one look at her had a second thought. He walked over to where Torres was still standing, and handed her a twenty dollar bill. "I think this should cover a taxi to take you both back to the office."

"You're not coming in?"

"I'm not. Besides, it was you that caught what might lead us to the person who is responsible for the bombings. I take it that you and Reynolds can handle this on your own."

"You seem to think that you've got it all figured out." Cal offered vaguely, backtracking towards the car. "Don't you have a case to work on? Since when have I ever paid you to just stand around and question something other than it be case related?" Torres raised her brow in confusion and went off towards the mosque.

When he reached the car, he opened the door to find Gillian staring out the window. She had barely flinched, only moving her head slightly to the side. His eyes fell to her lap where her phone was. It didn't take him long to put together; two possible situations that could be considered under the category of bad news.

He lifted her chin, so their eyes finally met. He reflected the worry in his own eyes at her answer-she was desperately trying to guard herself again. "Tell me. Ava or Sophie?"

"Ava." Her voice was barely a rasp, but more of a whisper. "She's gone." The look in her eyes, turned fearful as a tear escaped down her cheek. "I was just there, Cal. What if Sophie's next?"

Cal tilted his head, disclosing the information to her. "I looked up Dr. Jacobzi when I got back to the office. He has a good reputation and a high success rate. I got the vibe that he was genuine and had the best interest of his patients." Wiping away her tear with his thumb, he had expected at least a smile—but all he got was a crestfallen look on his behalf.

His stomach knotted slightly, as she looked up at him with unshed tears in her eyes. "Sophie has a Ventricular Septal Defect."Gillian choked out, like each word was poisonous.

"Something to do with her heart." Cal stated bluntly, sitting on the edge of the car as it started to sink in. "More technically . . . a heart problem."

"Yeah."

"So what are we talking about here? Medication? Surgery?"

"They're going to keep her overnight and monitor her with medication. And if it fails—" Gillian wiped away a tear from her cheek—her voice shaking on the word _fails_. "There's a procedure that they would try, and then there's possible surgery." The air turned tense, as well as a sharp intake of breath that followed.

"We don't know that surgery is even going to happen." He tried to soothe her fears, but not even he felt confident in those words. "I'd actually like to think that Sophie is stronger than we think."

Gillian nodded, letting her head rest against the seat. He saw her eyes growing heavy, and he moved to get up, but she caught his arm. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something—then let her arm fall back to her side.

"Whatever it is that you're thinking about—I'm here." He climbed in next to her, the door wide open. "But I really wish that you would talk to someone. I know you—and this is not it. You're an incredible person and my best friend. I really need that best friend back, because I feel like I'm falling apart here." He confessed, but when he looked back, her eyes were closed. The day had officially caught up with her, and he wasn't sure that she had heard what he had said. "Let's get you home then." As he carefully got out and shut the door behind him, a tear rolled down her cheek.

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><p>This was a shorter chapter, unfortunately. Umm...to clarify, Gillian was tired out by the end. Remember that she had been awake almost all night-and has been sleeping better with Sophie with her, but it's only been at least a few days (compared to the many days of lack of sleep). So, she was in and out of sleep and heard him talking to her when he confessed all this. That and I wanted the tear running down her cheek to symbolize that she was internally breaking from the fear that was brought on by the attack, and always keeping to herself. See you next time! Remember to review :)<p> 


	34. Stay

As far as she knew, she had slept almost all the way home—until he had picked her up. It felt a little like déjà vu, as he carried up to the house. "I've brought you home. Think you can manage to stand for a few minutes? You're going to need your keys to get in."

She nodded, and he put her down slowly. He watched as she swayed slightly; leaned against the house as she went through her purse and produced the key. It was an odd feeling, as she felt partially drunk—even though she hadn't a drop since earlier in the week.

The door clicked open and he helped her in. She stopped when she saw the blanket on the couch; Sophie's bag and blanket and doll were still lying on the floor. Gillian had to blink back some tears as she started up the stairs, with Cal close behind.

When they were half up, Gillian finally wiped the tears from her cheeks and headed down the hall to her bedroom. He followed her wordlessly, until he had tucked her in. "How's your arm?"

She pulled it out the covers, twisting it slowly. "Still a little stiff, but that probably had something to do with landing on my shoulder."

"And the nightmares?"

Their eyes met, as he sat on the edge of the bed. "I guess I've been too busy to have the nightmares—or at least to remember them." Although, something in the back of her mind told her otherwise.

"Good."

Letting out a yawn, her eyes grew heavy once more and she couldn't keep them anymore. As he got up to leave, she stirred and called out to him. "Stay." When he didn't move, she wearily opened her eyes.

"Hmm."

"Stay here." She clarified; her voice thick with sleep. "At least until I fall asleep."

Cal sat back on the edge of the bed. "Until you fall back to sleep." He promised, as he sat back on the edge of the bed. Gazing down, he saw her hand resting by her side; resisted the urge to take it. "Would you like me to tell you a bed time story?" Now he was teasing her, but succeeded by getting the faintest smile and a laugh as she snuggled into the pillow, with a deep sigh.

"I need you too, Cal." He waited until he was sure that she was asleep, and closed the door to her bedroom. He knew that she had been almost asleep, when she had uttered those words, which rang in his ears as he went back downstairs.

Thinking about it as he walked around the house, he suddenly felt antsy. The way she had used those words: a delicate whisper— filled with sleep, was almost like he was in a dream of his own. His relationship with Gillian had been just "friends" for the past five years, and not once had those words been used like they had. But he wished that they had not been said under these circumstances, when it was possible she wouldn't remember what had been said when she woke.

However—one thing he was sure about now that he wasn't before, was that she hadn't been completely asleep in the car when he had told her that he needed her. It complicated things a bit as well. When his job was to help people: read lies by microexpressions, he felt confident. He had always prided himself on the job he did when solving cases. With Gillian it was a completely different ballgame that he was still trying to figure out, and it puzzled him completely.

There was something there; nagging at him that she was the one for him—again. He would usually ignore that little voice and tell himself that he was being completely foolish for even thinking about going after her. Today he was starting to believe it—just a little.

Finally perusing the bookshelf in her living room, he settled down on the couch and read until he was halfway through the book. When he looked at his watch, he found that a couple hours had gone by and Gillian still wasn't up yet. As he put the book down on the coffee table, he couldn't resist checking up on her to make sure that she was okay.

He found her breathing soothing, and she was almost in the same position that she had fallen asleep in. In no way did he want her to wake up, because he knew that when she did, she would want to go right back to the hospital. He quickly shut the door after hearing his phone vibrating in his pocket.

_How is Sophie?_ The text said simply. He didn't feel like explaining it to anyone. Not even to his daughter, as he wanted to protect her—not ruin her.

It took him a few minutes to think of what to say. _Still in the hospital. I'll explain later._

_Whatever it is, I can handle it. _He sighed as she wrote him again. _"If it's that serious, I should be home with you . . . with Gillian."_

_You should stay with your mother, at least until Monday. I'm going back and forth a lot. I'm afraid that neither one of us would make very good company right now. _With that, he pocketed the phone and went back to reading. Not even five minutes later and the familiar ring in his pocket could be heard.

"Zoe." He offered after checking the caller ID.

"She's pretty freaked out, Cal." His ex-wife greeted into the phone. "Emily told me what happened when she came over yesterday. When were you going to tell me that Gillian was staying at the house?"

"I wasn't going to. It's not mine to tell."

"It is if they're going to be around our daughter. Not that I have anything against Gillian. I see the way that you look at her. You haven't looked at anyone that way since we were together—so naturally I'm a bit jealous that our relationship wasn't like that when we were together."

"We certainly had our moments." Cal mused, picking up the book again and skimming through the current page he was reading.

"Yeah, we did." She said through her smile. "How's she holding up?"

His eyes cast up towards the stairs. "She got out mostly with only bruises and scratches, but it's going to be awhile before things seem normal again."

"I wouldn't expect it will be any time soon."

"No, it won't."

"I think there are some things going on with Emily that I think we should discuss." Her voice lowered, a few footsteps followed as if she were changing rooms for privacy

"She hasn't been herself lately."

"I've already asked, and our daughter insists that everything's fine."Zoe sighed in frustration. "Although, she is fifteen and we are her parents."

The wood creaked, which caused Cal to look up. He saw a rather refreshed looking Gillian trying to sneak by to the kitchen. Giving her a look that she could stay, she shook her head. This was a private conversation between him and Zoe, so when he wasn't looking, she went into the kitchen and left them to finish their conversation.


	35. Thoughts

Hey, I'm back! Yeah. . . I'm not even sure where I went. I just know that I got really stuck on this chapter and have been writing this chapter line by line, and writing other things in order to not get too frustrated with this story. We're getting into some uncharted land now—

I usually don't edit my chapters too much after they've been published, but the whole Cal/Zoe conversation had me kind of irritated as well, so I went ahead and rewrote it, as well as included what I had been planning next in the story. So, if you'll go back and reread the last four paragraphs in the last chapter, then the start of this chapter—or the chapter itself— will make more sense.

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><p>Walking into the kitchen, he watched as she nursed a hot cup of tea and looked out the window—choosing to sit beside her at the table. He gave her a look as if he were saying: <em>I'd rather that you stayed<em>.

"It was a private conversation." Gillian took another sip of tea, clearly knowing what he was thinking. Cal looked rather uncomfortable, although he was trying not to show it. Her thoughts went back to her conversation with Emily, and she couldn't help notice that her thoughts were reflecting his own.

"The conversations between Zoe and me are anything but private anymore."As she glanced back out the window, she could feel his eyes on her. "You should know that as well as anyone."

"I do." She circled her index finger around the rim of the cup. Thinking about it for a second, she gave a slight shake of her head, as if she were considering telling her the thought.

_"Your father has his own ways of doing things. Are you sure you're okay?"_

_"Yeah, I'm fine." Emily said, in a more determined tone this time. "I brought my bag with me, so I can get some studying done."_

_"You can come to me with anything, if you ever need to talk. You know that, right?" _

Her conversation with Emily came floating back to her, as if a sudden thought. She cleared her throat and went back to circling her finger around the rim of the cup— with some kind of fake fascination.

_"You can't ignore him forever" _A voice told her. She took another sip, suddenly half-disappointed that she had drained the rest of the liquid distraction. Meeting his gaze, she cleared her throat. But as she opened her mouth to say something, he beat her too it—clearly thinking the same thing she was—in some way or another.

He sighed with such indecision that it made her rethink telling him. She went to the cabinet and pulled out a pudding, then a spoon from the drawer. It took one look that she could clearly read—he was seriously asking for her opinion, or he was trying to see if she had talked to Emily lately—to which he wasn't that far off.

She sat back down at the table, feeling her hands shaking. He made a slight gesture for her to pass it over for her. He felt crazy for letting her eat the brown goop in the first place. Just like he had ignored almost everything else with a passion, and it was killing him. Truthfully, he couldn't stop thinking about what she had said to him as he watched her fall asleep earlier.

As he snapped out of his thoughts, he got the sense that she had just stopped talking, and yet he hadn't heard a word that she had said. He shot her his way of an apologetic glance for not listening to her. "You'll have to repeat whatever it was that you just said, Love."

"You know as well as I do that if you want to get to the source of the answer, you ask the source." She took a bite of pudding, stuck her spoon back into the cup and sat up in her chair as if the hair on the back of her neck had just stood up; a glint of suspicion in her eyes. For all he knew, they could have. In fact, he knew that look all too well. "

"I intend to talk to her—just needed to clear my head of a few things first." He cleared his throat as he watched her take another bite of pudding. "How about some dinner?"

She almost him that she wasn't hungry, but she knew those words weren't exactly going to fly. His eyes followed around the curve of her body, and she knew exactly what he was thinking.

Relenting to answer, she finished the rest of her pudding and threw the empty cup into the garbage. "As long as it's close to the hospital."

"How about that noodle place a couple blocks away?"He could tell that she was thinking about it, even after her stomach rumbled loudly.

She went and stood by the chair. Her whole body was shaking now, clear down to her fingers. "I'll go grab my jacket." When she came back five minutes later, she looked slightly better in color, but her expression was one of eagerness.

He made sure that he opened the door front door before she locked up; then in the car as she got into the passenger side, and when they reached the restaurant as well.

A lady with jet black hair and a Japanese accent had spotted them coming in, and was now gathering menus into her hand. "How many?"

Cal and Gillian exchanged a glance, managing to give his answer a split second before she did. "Two."

"Right this way." The woman led them toward an empty table towards the back. "So what brings two of you here tonight, besides eating?" She asked in slightly broken English, giving them an encouraging smile.

"We're merely colleagues." The woman's smile faded slightly with disappointment. Cal didn't even look up from his menu to gage her reaction.

"Oh well, you two make beautiful couple. Just so you know. Your waitress will be here in a moment." And then she scurried back to the front of the building, and they were left to look over the menu.

Gillian set her menu back on the table. She could tell just by the tone of his voice was more implying than the expression on his face. "Just a colleague?"

"I'd like to call it more of a platonic love." Turning the page of the menu, he felt her hand stop his action. His tone was again betraying his emotions—desperately trying to stonewall was more like it.

She had caught his attention, but they were interrupted by their waitress placing two glasses on the table, as well as a pitcher of water. Gillian placed her hands back by her side, offering a small thank you as she poured herself a glass.

The woman named Akira couldn't have been more than nineteen years old; black hair, high cheek bones and a rather slimmed figure. She had a slight Japanese accent, but no broken English."How are you guys doing tonight?"

Gillian nodded, taking another sip of her water. "Fine, thanks."

"Good." Akira gestured towards their menus. "Are you ready to order? Or do you need another minute to look over everything?" When they had both nodded, they placed their orders: Strawberry Chicken for Gillian. Noodles and vegetables for Cal. Once they had handed off their menus—moments after she had written down their orders—they were left alone again.


	36. Little Lies

She was lying. He was lying. What were their lives becoming, other than a life full of lies? His thoughts and apparently hers were interrupted by a ringing phone—Gillian's. She slipped away from the table, with that look that she knew he was lying.

Cal took a sip of water as he looked around the restaurant—anything to take his mind of who was calling her this late in the evening. He had pried into the video feed and scrutinized every detail of her leaving that day she slept into her office.

What had improved? Gillian was no longer sleeping in her office anymore. They were starting to talk again, slightly, although awkwardly. There were still things that she was keeping from him, and vice versa.

He had always been rough and less-fine tuned than she was. However, from the moment that he had met her . . . she had him in the palm of his hands. Until tonight, he had only suspected that she had felt the same way—even though all the signs had been there.

She returned to the table before he could finish the rest of his thoughts—though that was all that was needed to know what he needed to do. "You first." He met her questioning eyes as he took another sip of water.

Sitting there momentarily, it was if she were reluctantly holding onto the words as she pocketed the phone again. "That was my friend, Anna Keller. She's a psychiatrist who practices in Virginia—just out of Richmond.

"I take it wasn't for fun." Cal mused, his eyes dancing wildly; not with amusement, but with a spark of recognition that filled in some of the blanks in his mind. He knew that she had gone off somewhere after getting the call that Ava had been taken to the hospital.

The image of Gillian's wild, slightly reddened eyes as she had rushed into the ER; burned into his mind. He had felt slightly at odds that he had worried her at all, but she had looked relieved when their eyes connected.

"Anna was like the sister I never had." Gillian continued, looking back to see their waitress walking towards them. "We stayed up late together, studied, made sure the other was doing alright—" She trailed off, almost hesitantly—as if she had said too $much—only to force herself to continue. "She moved back about six months ago, and I made a promise that I would go back when I had the time." He listened intently, keeping an eye on their surroundings.

"So you were with her when you heard about Ava."

"I didn't know that at the time." Gillian made an initial shrug. "I thought maybe something had happened at the office—which it did—but I thought something had happened to you." Their eyes met and they had made a silent gesture, a fleeting motion that seemed to dissipate when their waitress set their food in front of them.

"Is there anything else I can get you two tonight?"

"No, thank you." Gillian chimed in, picking up her fork. With a slight nod, their waitress went over to the next table and left them alone—but it took a couple bites of food before they continued their conversation.

"Why didn't you tell me you were talking to someone?" He chewed thoughtfully, reading the expression on her face.

"Not that I don't appreciate everything— but Anna is a little easier to talk to."

"Because she's a woman?"

Gillian flashed him a partially humored smile, while trying hard not to roll her eyes. His emotions had seemingly dulled, and that wasn't like him at all. "You know what I meant."

"Do I?" He inquired with a raise of his eyebrows, just as he shoveled in another bite of food. That answer didn't even deserve a response, so the rest of their meal was relatively quiet.

It was hard to tell what he was thinking at the moment, so she focused particularly hard on eating everything on her plate. Of course, he finished before she did, and waited patiently until she was done. It gave them a moment to gather everything up and flag the waitress down for their bill.

"Ready?"

"Yeah." Gillian was just slipping on her coat as he stood from his seat. Thankfully she felt steadier after a good meal, and letting Cal in that she was talking to someone. At least, she hoped that's what she was doing. She also considered telling him that she was still having the nightmares, but that would just make him worry. Besides, he looked a little settled now, although not by much.

She held back as he paid the bill. The woman that they had seen before was handing Cal back, and shooting glances at her with a smile on her face. She hadn't given it much though before, but the older woman's words came back to her; about her and Cal making a beautiful couple.

Cal turned back to her, deliberately ignoring her actions. If only the woman knew that he was an expert on microexpressions, and expressions in general. The thought made her smile inside, even for a moment.


	37. Crash- Pt I

The ride back over to the hospital was pretty quiet; the light reflecting over his face as he drove. At one point, he looked over at her. "Is there something on my face that you're not telling me about?"

"No." Gillian went to glancing back out the window, before changing her mind to stay quiet. "Platonic love, Cal?"

"It's what you would have wanted me to say, isn't it?"

"We both know that it isn't true."

"So now you're admitting it—that we're in love?"

"I didn't say that I admitted it." The light turned green and he stepped on the gas pedal to continue through the intersection, but as he was getting ready to say something else—there was a shattering of glass as the car landed on its side.

When Gillian woke up, she was a bit disoriented; just barely caught the outline of Cal's body that was leaning in the driver's seat. The darkened sky lit up, and was followed by a rather large crackling sound: lightning.

Gillian remembered that it was just the two of them. Sophie was safe in the hospital. So why was she hearing crying? And why did she felt the instinct to go see who it was?

"Cal?" Gillian hissed, her hand falling to the seat belt that was wedged between her and the ground.

"What?" Cal moaned, trying to sit upright. "I think I could have broken some ribs." He touched his head, emitting a soft hiss in return. "And must have hit my head when we crashed." Another crack of lightning, this time closer. "Can you move?"

"My seatbelt is stuck." She tugged more insistently this time, but couldn't break free.

"Is that crying?"

"I heard it earlier. I think it must be the other car." In the corner of her eye, she caught a rather large piece of glass that was just out of reach. If she could get to it, she could use it to cut herself out. "There was another car that hit us when we were crossing through the intersection."

"But the light was green." Cal sounded a little surprised as he gripped at his own seatbelt. "What are you doing?"

"If I can reach this piece of glass, then maybe I can cut myself out." She could feel her hand strain, almost over-extend as she fell just short of even touching the broken shard.

"Maybe I can get out of my seatbelt—"

"Who knows what injuries you have, let alone that it was your side that was hit."

"Judging by how close that lightning is. . . I don't think we have time to assess injuries right now." He pressed, as he tugged on his seat belt, which was also happened to be jammed.

The wails increased, tenfold, which made her try even harder to reach that piece of glass. It was hard to make out the words that were being screamed over the lightning, thunder and wind that was picking up in the sky.

"MOOMMMYYY!"

Her hands inched to the top of the glass, slowly she was able to grab onto it. With a satisfied groan, Gillian lifted the belt as far as she could from her body and started sawing at it with the glass.

"Any luck?"

"Not yet." Another little break, Gillian was trying to saw a little faster now. "Think you can get out?"

"I would, but my seatbelt is jammed." He too was pulling on his belt, but a pain seared through his hand at the movement. It was possible that a broken wrist or arm could be added to his injuries.

"MOMMY. . . MOMMY, PLEASE WAKE UP!"

Another few minutes went by—another strike of lightning. Gillian had gotten most of the way through and was able to rip the belt to get free. Careful of all the broken glass on her side, she pushed some it aside and went over to Cal, who was looking at his hand.

"You okay?"

"Fine. I think I just hit my hand a little in the crash." She looked like she didn't quite believe him, but dismissed it when he added. "You're going to have to break a window to get out of here."

"I'm not going—"

"I'm not going anywhere. Go. I'll get out. Hand me that piece of glass before you go." He was pointing down to a good sized piece.

"I'm not leaving you here."

"You can, and you will. If that were Sophie out there, you'd want to get her out as fast as possible."

Picking up a good sized piece of glass, she warily placed it into his hand. "Don't try to play the hero, Cal. I want you back alive."

"You can count on that."

Removing up one of the head rests; she found her purse and shattered the back window. When she crawled out, she saw a green jeep that was upright. There was a little girl in the backseat, probably only about five years old. She was petite; her black hair was pulled up into a ponytail. Besides a few cuts, she looked fairly unharmed.

Upon seeing Gillian emerged from the car, the little girl pounded on the window. Checking the door, Gillian found that she couldn't get it open.

The little girl was terrified, and Gillian quickly checked the other door. No luck. Finally with a little prying, she got the passenger side door open. Gillian climbed in, checking the pulse of the woman sitting in the front seat, while trying to talk to the young girl.

"Hi. My name is Gillian…what's yours?"

"Elena." The little girl peered from behind the seat. "Can you help my mommy?"

"Your mommy was hurt pretty badly." Her gaze went over to the car that Cal was probably still trapped in. She swallowed nervously, trying to keep it out of her voice. She hoped by now, that he had escaped, and that she could really use his help. Especially when she saw the oil pouring out, and a spark igniting. It wasn't clear when the car would actually blow, but it was possibly that they were right in the line of fire.

Pulling her focus back, she tried her best at giving Elena a comforting smile. "Elena, I was hoping that you would help me."

"How?"

"I need to get your mommy and you out of here, and over to the side. Do you think that you could climb up here and run over there?"

"Are you coming too?" Gillian felt an all familiar twinge that this wasn't going to end well. From a first glance, she could see that her mom was pinned close to the dashboard, and her pulse was fading quickly. She just didn't want Elena to see that her mother was dying right in front of her.

"I don't like lightning."

"I don't either, actually." Shifting, Gillian felt a stabbing pain in her leg. "Do you think you can climb up here?"

The little girl backed away as if she were going to hide, but instead grabbed a red teddy bear and a blanket and started climbing over the console and slid down into her lap. She gazed at her mother, then back up at Gillian.

"She's going to die, isn't she?" Her blue eyes begged her to be honest. Gillian couldn't get the words out, except for a nod. Leaning forward, she took her mother's pulse one last time. Nothing.

"I want to go." But as she was about to open the door, Gillian stopped her just as Cal's car erupted into flames.


	38. Crash- Pt II

Feeling a cold chill move through her entire body, she watched in horror at the car engulfed in flames and then exploded. All she could think about was how she had left him there, trapped in his seat.

Instinctively, she kept her body over the little girl's in protection, as a part of Cal's car flew up in the air, landing on the hood of the car. She could feel the little girl shaking, grasping to her teddy bear and blanket.

The car looked almost unsteady, like the darkened sky that loomed over them. It was clear that they couldn't stay in the car for very much longer—even though it was the safest place to be during a thunder and lightning storm—it was looking better and better to be in the open, than being a possible target to explosion.

"You see that tree over there?" Gillian pointed across the road, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach. Elena nodded, looking at her mother. She started to whimper, before turning to bury her head into Gillian's shoulder. She didn't even bother finishing that sentence, instead carrying her out the door as Cal's car exploded and threw them to the ground.

Mentally, Gillian cursed the fact that she had just landed on the arm that she had hurt earlier in the week, but brushed it off to check Elena—who now had some extra scrapes on the side of her face and on her legs. And by the time they were underneath the safety of the trees, both were literally shaking.

She wrapped Elena up with the blanket; a roll of thunder boomed in the sky, making the little girl shake further. A flash of lightning made her bump against Gillian, who had turned and emptied the contents of her stomach.

Sirens were heard as they raced through the streets of Washington D.C. Smoke was billowing into the sky, as if signaling of destruction and death. There was still no sign of Cal, despite the second explosion. Leaning against the tree was uncomfortable as it felt to lean against; the many branches and leaves protected them from the now pouring rain.

Her shoulder was radiating pain, and she closed her eyes to hide the pain and tears that she was feeling. The adrenaline that had been fueling her when they had crashed was still there, but had been replaced by a deep sadness. Was he alive? Somehow she couldn't keep her eyes open to find out.

The sound of sirens, from both police cars and ambulances rang in her ears. Elena was shaking her shoulder now. "Gillian? You can't leave me too! Please, don't leave me."

A pause, then a short gasp followed. "Who are you?"

"Cal." It physically hurt for him to kneel, but he did it anyway. He ran his fingers through Gillian's hair. "I told you I would make it out." Her eyes slowly fluttered open, as she finally gasped for a breath.

"Gillian! I thought you left me." Elena hugged her so tightly, the blanket slipped off her shoulders.

He let a hum, despite the red and blue lights that were bouncing off the slick street. "Looks like I'm not your only admirer." He teased, as she wrapped her arm around the girl.

"I thought you were dead."

"You can't get rid of me that easily. You should know that by now." She gave a slight, pained smile.

"Gillian?" Elena scrunched her nose up, before frowning. "Can I call my daddy to come get me?" Just then a fire truck parked close to them, and then an ambulance. Four firefighters got out, and began setting up to drench the flames. Another two EMTS ran over to where they were sitting.

Elena was holding even tighter now, and Cal finally had to sit down, because he was hurting.

"We'll call when we get to the hospital—let him know that you're safe." Nodding, Elena buried her head into her shirt. Gillian and Cal told their story to the police officer with the scruffy beard, as they were all being checked over. Elena hadn't let go the entire time, which made it kind of difficult to do anything, but it was easy to see why she was so scared.

They were finally wheeled up into the ambulance, almost close to leaving all the destruction behind. Cal had refused to be placed on a stretcher, despite the confirmation that he had probably broken some ribs, among other things.

Elena would only go if she was with Gillian and was now sitting on Cal's lap. And Cal was of course, never leaving Gillian again, if he could help it. However, they were separated to different rooms to be examined.

By the time the nurses had informed her that Elena's dad had arrived and was staying with her, she also found out that Cal had a hard time breathing and was now taken up to surgery for some internal injuries sustained in the crash.

She made sure that Emily and Zoë were called for him, as it wasn't clear when he would wake up to make that call himself; then busied herself with finding about Sophie, who was so far stable from the medications she had been given.

Because of her previous injury earlier during the week, the on-call doctor hadn't allowed Gillian to go see her, and wanted her to rest. Despite having some forming bruises, scrapes and a lack of a concussion, the doctor still wanted to keep her overnight for observation: just in case something developed during the night that hadn't been caught yet.

Gillian settled in, feeling like it was going to be a long night. Cal was hurt and she felt responsible that they had crashed. She also felt quite torn that she couldn't be there with him. She hoped that Emily and Zoe were with him by now, and could only picture them sitting there in the waiting room.

A knock on the door, brought her out of her thoughts. She thought it was another nurse coming to check up on her again, so she gave a half-hearted, "Come in". At the sight of the teenager, Gillian sat up against the pillow. "Emily."

"They said Dad was going to be in surgery for about another hour." Emily was dressed in a red shirt, jeans and gold flats as she pointed towards the door. "I told mom that I was going to get something from the cafeteria, and found out where you were."

"I'm glad you did. Come, sit." Gillian offered, as Emily sat down in the nearest seat next to the bed

"They said dad had some internal injuries—"

Gillian confirmed her response with a nod. "The driver ran a red light as we were going through the intersection. She had her five year old daughter in the back seat."

"The police officer told us that she was okay, but her mom died at the scene?" Another nod and it triggered an image of Elena's mother: lifeless, bloodied, and instantly killed upon impact.

"I probably have as many answers as you do about the crash, but it all went by so quickly. After it happened, your father and I realized that the car was on its side. We were stuck in our seats, so I grabbed a piece of glass and cut myself out. Your dad asked me to hand him a piece of glass before breaking out the back window."

A cold shiver went through Gillian's body. For a few minutes at least, she had thought he was dead. She just hoped that Emily wasn't seeing the terror in her eyes right now.

"You left him?"

"I didn't want to leave him, but he insisted that I go and that he would get out… and when I got to the other car, Elena's mom was already dead."

"That's…horrible. I can't imagine if—"Pausing, Emily met her eyes and understood that she felt the same way, and that it had almost happened. "You love him, don't you?"

"It's—"

"It complicated, because you and my dad work together—I know."

"It's not just that. We both love each other, and I'm sure that we always will. But if something were to happen in our relationship . . . it wouldn't just ruin our friendship, but also make it impossible to work together."

"I guess I've never thought of it that way. Dad always seems a little bit happier when he's around you. I'm just glad that both of you are okay."

Gillian grasped her shoulder in appreciation. "You should get back. I'm sure your mom is probably wondering where you are."

Emily shrugged. "Or she's on the phone with a potential client. I don't think she'll know that I'm missing for a half an hour. And if she does, I'll tell her that I sat down to eat at the cafeteria." Sharing a smile, Gillian wished she could freeze this moment before the world around her got serious again.


	39. Body Language

"Gillian." Angelica stopped filing some papers in the cabinet as she approached the pediatric desk. "I heard what happened. How are you doing?"

"I'm tired, but good. I thought I would check up on Sophie before I left."

"Sure. Just left me file this one thing—and will come and I fill you in on everything that has happened. "She dropped the paper in, and locked the cabinet. She walked around the desk; let the other nurse know where she was going, and they began walking down the hall. When they reached the room, she had a rather large smile on her face.

Another nurse who was sitting in the room nodded her greetings, before getting up and leaving. Angelica walked over to the crib and picked Sophie up. "You gave your mother quite a scare, little one."

Sophie gave her a curious stare, and then pointed at Gillian. "Mama?"

"That's your mommy, alright." Angelica gestured over to the chair. "Why don't you go sit in that chair and I'll bring her to you."

Wearily, Gillian turned and sat in the chair. She let her eyes close, while listening to the interaction between Sophie and Angelica across the room. There were a few rustling noises, and then Sophie's voice. "Mama, wake?"

"…why don't you give this to her." Angelica whispered, handing something to Sophie.

Slapping her knee, Sophie smiled up at Gillian as she opened her eyes. In her hand, she was grasping a red sucker that said "congrats".

Angelica explained, digging around in the drawer. "They're just some of our extra suckers that we carry here on the Pediatric floor."

"Suceer?" Sophie repeated, flinging it into her lap; pouting out her bottom lip. "Can I have?"

Laughing, Angelica chimed in. "It looks like you're in for some trouble with this one." At that, there was a knock on the door; Corbin peered in.

"Are we interrupting?"

Gillian shook her head, and the door opened further. "No, come in."

"Gillian, I would like you to meet Ashley Petelson: Sophie's social worker."

Ashley stepped in; her brown eyes suddenly lighting up with her smile. "It's nice to finally put a face to a name." She held out her hand; her white watch peeking out under her red laced shirt. "Ava named you the sole guardian over her only daughter: Sophie Cassidy Keller. Is that information correct?"

"Yes." Sophie and Gillian shared a mutual look of curiosity. "What's this about?"

"I have some papers that you might want to look over, if you agree to be her guardian." Reaching into the file, she handed the papers to her. Gillian sat there for a moment, letting the words sink in. She looked up a few seconds later, and Ashley gave her a reassuring smile, and a subtle nod to let her know that what Gillian was thinking was correct.

Taking the papers, Gillian felt a prick of tears welling up in her eyes. She looked over every word, then at Sophie, whose life was going to change forever when she signed that paper. And yet at the same time, it quelled all of Gillian's fears of losing her forever.

Finally.

Corbin clicked his pen and handed it over; his steely blue eyes were glistening as she gave him an appreciative glance. She signed slowly, in order to keep her hand from shaking too much—before handing back the paperwork and pen to their rightful owners.

Then he did something unexpected . . . blowing into a party favor that he had pulled out of his pocket, as Ashley filed away the papers. Sophie laughed loudly—not understanding the full meaning of this moment—which made everyone else laugh too.

They hardly noticed the door opening, until Angelica had clasped her hands together and they watched as Cal came in, wheeled in by one of the nurses.

Gillian's eyes lit up; just moments before the thought of not having him beside her was a little too much for a monumental moment. The last time she had heard, he had been in surgery and hadn't woken up just yet.

"Emily sends her regards of not being here." Was how he greeted her, and with that sideways grin that she had always secretly loved. She playfully swatted his shoulder, as he leaned in to kiss her. When they came up for a breath, she didn't pull away. "I think I'm in love with you." He whispered words only she could hear, but it was apparent by their body language they needed space. Everyone cleared the room and left them alone. She searched his eyes, and it was clear as day that he was telling the truth. "I've always been in love with you."

"Cal—" Her words no longer held warning, at his somewhat almost drunken confession. Although he wasn't drunk, it felt like it as the rest of the medicine coursed through his veins. She was staring at him with sudden intensity that caused him to waver. Her expression was full of hurt, want, fear, and sadness. "You okay?"

He felt a chill run through his body, as her hand rested in the crook of his neck. There was a tangible hint of smoke and apples; made him look her over and make sure she was really there. In fact, it wasn't really surprising after all that she had been through, that she was one tough woman. And that made her more than just a business partner, but his hero.

When he looked up, she was still glancing over at him as he nodded. He could read it on her face that she needed to hear it: the truth instead of the lies. "I'm in a bit of pain."

She tilted her head, somewhat in surprise and recognition at his confession. "You talked one of the nurses to bring you up here, didn't you?"

"Guilty as charged." He leaned back; wincing slightly as he grasped the front wheel of the chair. She stood up immediately, taking off her sling and stuffing it into her purse. She kissed the top of Sophie's head, and whispered something to the little girl. "You can't keep secrets, you know." She smiled and stood, not blinking. "Okay, now you're just plain scaring me."

"You did scare me." She emphasized on the word "did", as she began wheeling him out of the room with a certain ease that one shouldn't have after getting in a car accident. In his fuzzy mind—he figured she had fared better than he had.

"So you told me yesterday. My head is just a little rattled . . . that's all." A pause as they reached the elevators; he craned his head back. "I don't suppose you could get me out of here."

As she pushed the down button, she gave him a pointed, but humored look. "It's a hospital, Cal. . . not a psych ward."

"I know that. But you being Houdini and everything—" He elaborated, trailing off in his own thoughts. She gave a dry laugh, as a few people emptied from the elevator and they stepped in.

When she came out of his room almost fifteen minutes later, she ran into Corbin and he briefly told her about Ava's funeral on Monday. It was her choice if she wanted to go or not. And then she caught a cab, ready to be home.

But as she was going past a particular street, she was prompted to stop at a white painted house. A house that Gillian had never been in before in her life and now had a connection to it. And if this house was any solace, then it would probably be the only glance at how Sophie had been raised.

Having grabbed a second wind, she stepped out of the cab; walked down the sidewalk and unlocked the door. As she walked along the tile floor, she noticed little cracks here and there and along the ceiling.

She passed a small living room, which held a worn green couch, and a wooden bookcase. A little further and she passed an open kitchen that had a booster placed on one of the three chairs at the table. A purple floppy bunny had taken the place of the child who was supposed to sit there.

Fingering the softness of the bunny, Gillian made a mental note to take both the bunny and the booster chair with her as she walked down the hall. Sophie's room wasn't hard to find, and it was clear that her room was the most well kept room in the house.

A handful of stuffed animals were at the end of her white and pink flowered comforter. Her closet door was open: filled with a stack of books to the side, along with at least five different pairs of shoes. Above there were a few coats and some dresses hung up.

All of that didn't seem to matter when she saw picture on the dresser. It was of her and Sophie, and had been taken at the hospital by one of the nurses. Ava hadn't been lying when she had confessed that she had never let Sophie forget her, but at the time Gillian had felt particularly numb at that can of worms being opened again.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Wow, so first off: thanks for those who have reviewed. It makes it ten times better when I know people are reading. Second: I started outlining all the chapters (Guess it's never too late to start) and only got about two things checked off the list that I wanted to write in this chapter. I think I let the muse run away with me this time around :) Third: I should have also said this sooner, but if you want to follow what I'm writing or the progress of what I'm working on: look me up on FB, under ShapedChocolate. You don't have to join to see the page! That or you can join my twitter page (the link is on my profile page here on fanfiction. And last but not least, I made a list below of all the more prominent characters, as well as what chapters they appear in to keep everything straight.

Thank you for all the support and patience you have given me. I appreciate it!

-theonlyxception

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><p><strong>Ava Keller<strong>- Sophie's biological mother (DECEASED). _Appears in Chapter Eight: Ten Fold_; _Nineteen: The Beauty and the Tragedy; Twenty Six: Distracted. _Shoulder length brown hair, green eyes; mid twenties. _Last appearance in; Chapter Thirty Three: First Explanation (mentioned)_

**Robby- **Sophie's biological father (MENTIONED) Left Ava and Sophie, the previous year.

**Sophie Keller- **The almost two year old, adopted daughter of Gillian and Alec Foster. Sophie's mother decided that she didn't want to give the little girl up for adoption and took her back when she was just a baby. _Appears in Chapter Nineteen: The Beauty and the Tragedy; Twenty: Slow Motion; Twenty-Two; For Now; Twenty Nine: A Few Things; Thirty: Drying Off._

**Corbin Gray- **Ava Keller's Lawyer; _Appears in Chapter Twenty-One: Protective hands; Twenty Two: For Now; Twenty Eight: You Okay?; Twenty Nine: A Few Things; Thirty Nine:._

**Angelica- **Sophie's pediatric nurse. _Appears in Chapter Thirty One: Rockabye; Thirty Nine: _

**Dr. Jacobzi- **Sophie's pediatric specialist doctor. _Appears in Chapter Thirty-One: Rockabye_

**Dr. Tucker**- Treated Gillian when Cal brought her into the ER. Dr. Tucker then diagnosed her with PTSD, pneumonia, mild dehydration, and exhaustion. _Appears in chapter Thirteen: The Other Side of the Door; Fourteen: Sharpen Up the Knives._

**Dr. Henries- **_Mentioned in Chapter Thirteen: The Other Side of the Door_ by Dr. Tucker that he was also treating Gillian when she was brought into the ER. He is also the head psychiatrist at the hospital.

**Samantha- **One of the nurses that kept watch over Gillian when she was brought into the ER for the second time. _Appears in Chapter Thirteen: The Other Side of the Door_

**Dr. Anna Keller- **(no relation to Ava) Was a college friend of Gillian's, who then moved to Florida; got married and had a daughter. She just recently moved back to Virginia with her family, and started her own practice. _Appears in Chapter Sixteen: Sweet Relief; Seventeen: Catching Up; Eighteen: On Camera; Thirty Six: Little Lies (mentioned by Gillian). _

**Ryan Thomas Curtis- **Gillian's oldest brother, who lives in New York with his wife and two

dogs. _Appears in Chapter Twenty Five; About Existence (Phone call); Twenty Seven: Hand In My Pocket. _

**Sean Patrick Curtis- **Gillian's youngest brother who also lives in Washington D.C., is married and has a six year old daughter and they are expecting a son in January.

**Ashley Petelson- **Sophie's social worker; _Appears Chapter Thirty Nine: _

**Elena- **Survived a car accident that killed her mother. That same car crash also injured both Gillian and Cal. Petite; Five years old; Black hair. _Appears in Chapter Thirty Seven: Crash Pt I._


	40. A Long Story

I'm hoping that this chapter doesn't seem too rushed... but there's about three major things that are in this chapter, and didn't want it to drag on. Enjoy!

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><p>Gillian had made it as far as the couch, where she put everything. The ride home was barely remembered as she walked up the stairs and collapsed on the bed. As soon she closed her eyes, she was out.<p>

When she finally woke, it was hours later and she felt dazed for the longest time. It took her awhile to remember what had happened at the hospital, but she was so tired that the kiss that Cal gave didn't even faze her—now she was thinking about it.

She was thinking about it all the way down as she made herself a sandwich in the kitchen: picking and nibbling on it when the doorbell rang. Gazing over at the kitchen clock, Gillian found that it was nearly seven-thirty in evening and was a little cautious at who could be at the door at this time.

Peeking through the curtains, she saw a familiar face and immediately took off her sling.

"I was in the neighborhood—" Anna responded, upon seeing the look on her face. Gillian laughed, welcoming her in. "Truth?" Anna inquired, as she watched her nod. "I had a meeting in D.C., and I couldn't get myself to go home just yet." She looked at the sling in Gillian's hand. "New fashion, I see."

"That's actually a long story. Coffee?"

"Please."

They walked into the kitchen, Gillian shoving the sling into a nearby drawer. They made basic conversation, but nothing deep beneath the surface, until Anna asked the next question."

"I feel like I was interrupting your dinner." She gestured over to the half eaten sandwich. "Sophie sleeping?"

"Truth?" Gillian took in a deep breath, and felt her heart flutter as Anna nodded back. And that's when she told her everything: going to see Cal when Sophie had a fever; sleeping at his house, only to discover that Sophie wasn't breathing; Rushing Sophie to the hospital; The heart diagnosis; Going out to eat with Cal, then getting into a car accident; Elena and her mother; Signing the adoption papers; Cal kissing her—which is when she couldn't help turning away as she pulled out two mugs out of the cabinet.

Anna stayed silent for a moment, assessing everything that she had just been told. "That is quite the week. I can't even imagine what you've been through, and you're still standing. Where do I even begin?" She teased, making them both chuckle. "So you're adopting Sophie? The last time we talked, you weren't sure about that."

Gillian gave a subtle shrug. "I'm still not sure about it. All I know is that I don't want to lose her again."

"Fair enough. Do you trust him? Cal. There seems to be an awful lot of him, in your rather long story." Anna let her cheek rest against her hand, with a subtle hint of a smile on her lips.

"Cal and I . . . we're business partners."

"Then let me ask you this—answer truthfully—why do you think he kissed if you're "just" business partners? Has it ever occurred that he cares about you more than he lets on? Don't get me wrong. . . I think he has more than respected the boundaries you've set up, but I think it's time for you both to make a decision, whether you like it or not. Things between you have definitely changed, and it sounds like maybe he's only a little more comfortable than you are about it."

"There's something you have to understand about Cal . . . he's brusque and follows his own rules, but has a good heart."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

The next morning after their conversation, Gillian woke feeling a slight weight lifted off her shoulders. It had taken half of the night to think about it, that she knew what she had to do. At every twist and turn that her life had taken, he had been there—and she knew in her heart that she didn't ever want to lose him either.

So just a little after seven in the morning, she hailed a cab; her heart fluttering when she saw that he was already sitting up in bed.

"You alright, Love? I didn't think you would come back after yesterday." He addressed her as she crossed the room with significant strides that were wild and fierce; eyes teary and moist. She shook her head once to let him know that she wasn't. Her bottom lip began to tremble as he then patted the bed beside him. A tear ran down her cheek as their eyes met; his thumb brushed over her cheek. "Is it the kiss that made you a bubbling mess?"

She gave a sobbing laugh, playfully swatting his shoulder. "No."

"Come on then—you know better than to keep me in suspense." A lopsided grin appeared on his expression.

Tears welled up in her eyes again, as her hands gestured the importance of her words. "It's you, Cal."

He brushed his thumb over her cheek again, silence between them. "I never thought I would ever hear you say those words."

Sighing, she decided to change the subject. "I'm going to stop over at the office, before heading back home. Need anything?"

He looked at her hungrily, while groaning from the back of his throat. "Just you." She felt her cheeks grow warm.

Gillian stood and brushed off, when there was a knock on the door. "Emily. How long have you been standing there?"

"Less than twenty seconds."

"Is your mother with you?" Cal asked, wincing as he adjusted in bed.

"Yeah, she just went to get some things from her car. We brought some clothes—oh and some shoes for you when you're released on Tuesday." She showed him the sack of clothes, setting it on his bed.

"Then why all the serious looks?"

Emily shrugged. "Mom has a business conference that she has to go to tomorrow in Chicago, and she won't let me stay at the house alone."

"I should go." Gillian began walking towards the door, hoping to be excused from the pending argument that was looming ahead.

"No. And she has every right not to let you stay at home by yourself." That stopped Gillian in her tracks, as she turned around to see him glancing between her and Emily.

"She wants me to stay with some friends, so I was thinking of asking Danni—"

"Danni?"

"Danni is a girl that I've only been friends with since I was in the first grade." Emily chimed in, making a face. "Besides. It's just for a day, and then you'll be released from the hospital."

"Right. So, its Danni having the problems, not you is it?"

"Why would you even think that?"

"Because I know you're hiding something." He searched his daughter's expression. "And so does your mother."

"I know what?" Zoe inquired, stepping through the door.

"That our daughter is hiding something."

"Perhaps we could talk about this later?"

"You wanted me to talk to her, so here's me talking to her." He read the expression on his ex wife's face. "Except for you want me to talk to her alone."

"I never said that."

"Yeah. Except for the fact that it's written all over your face." He licked his lips, noticing that both Gillian and Emily were still in the room. "Foster . . . give us a minute. Take Emily with you." She read what he was trying to say as both walked out of the room.

Gillian sat down in a nearby chair, just outside of the room. She caught words here and there, but was focusing on Emily who was folding her arms and walking back and forth.

"They're only fighting because of me."

She gestured to the seat next to her as Emily shifted uncomfortably. "Tell me what's really going on?"

It took a moment, and with a sigh she began. "My friend's parents are divorcing, and I don't think she talking to anyone—"


	41. Gratitude

By the time that Emily had finished explaining everything, it took a moment to process before Gillian gave her response. "It sounds like you've done everything that you can, without interfering with how your friend is feeling. The more serious issues that you're telling me about—I couldn't actually address unless I had talked to her and assessed the situation."

"So what do I do?"

"Your friend is probably experiencing confusion, or could be angry at the situation. Most likely she's going to need some space while she sorts everything out. It's quite possible that she won't feel like talking until she does."

"And if she doesn't?"

"You know better than anyone what she's going through. Just letting her know you're there, will help her know that she's not alone. It could hold more meaning than any words could."

"I guess."

Gillian shifted in her seat, a sudden recognition in her eyes. "Em, you're not telling me all this because you're worried about her, but because you feel like you're losing her as a friend?"

Emily looked up after a long pause. "Is that how it is between you and dad? Like you're losing a friend?"

Gillian's lip twitched; not from delight, but that it was true. They had so much between them, and so much to talk about that it made her head spin and her stomach queasy. The look on Emily's face showed that she was truly hopeful, and also something that she wanted to know for awhile now. "You haven't talked at all, have you?"

The door opened and she Zoe appeared. "I think you're going to want to talk to him before you leave." Zoe was looking at Emily, but her usage of the word "him" and not _your father,_ was a clue that he wanted to talk to Gillian as well.

Emily glanced over at Gillian, then standing and following her into the room. Cal was sitting up more in bed, another pillow behind his back.

"You wanted to see us?" Gillian had a curious, but thoughtful look on her expression.

"I did." He parted his lips to speak. "I want Emily to stay with you for the night— well Monday to Tuesday." He shifted his hand from one direction to the other.

"What happened to me staying with a friend?" Emily inquired, looking slightly confused. "I'm perfectly fine staying in the house by myself—for one day."

"I changed my mind." He offered simply, looking towards Gillian. The last thing he wanted to do was put more stress on his partner, but the way she was just barely holding herself together right now—with his boggled up mind, was the best that he could do.

"Will you do that for me? Will you watch over my daughter?" He asked, his words suddenly slurring over in tiredness.

"Mom didn't really agree to me staying with Gillian, did she?" Emily beat her to the punch line, folding her arms across her chest. He almost missed a cross of annoyance and relief that flickered over Gillian's expression.

"As far as I see it, she doesn't have much of a choice—seeing that I'm in the hospital and all." A pause of recognition. "You never really asked Danni if you could stay with her, did you?"

"Cal—" Gillian raised her eyebrow in warning, as she silently told him to stop digging for information: that it could wait until later, and that they had far greater things to worry about at the moment.

"Go on now. Aren't you going to be late for school?"

Emily stared at him momentarily, and then stalked out the door. "Fine. But this conversation isn't over."

"Bye, Emily." Gillian softly announced, pressing one hand to her shoulder as the teenager walked by. As soon as the door had closed behind her, Gillian gave him a look.

"What? Do I have something on my chin?" He rubbed at his chin, as if there were a spot of mustard, grease or hospital food there.

Gillian tried hard not to roll her eyes at him. "She's worried, Cal."

"I know that. Why do you think I'm having her stay with you, love?" Snuggling down in the covers, his eyes were glazed over with sleep; eyelids drooping slowly. It had to be the medicine working its magic—or the fact that he had just been through some major surgery. In her mind, everything was working up to become an involuntary explosion.

As she rode the elevator down to the first level, she was so into her thoughts that she almost missed them, until a little voice uttered. "Gillian!"

Turning around, Elena was dressed in a pretty dress, cuts and bruises had formed around her head—some that she hadn't noticed before when they had been together. She was holding hands with an older man, who had peppered gray hair and bright blue eyes.

They all met in the middle of the corridor. "It's nice to finally put a face to a name." He held out his wrinkled hand. "I'm Albert, Elena's grandfather."

"Gillian Foster."

"I don't think I can ever repay you for what you've done for my family." His eyes were filled with sadness at the tragedy of his daughter, but his body language showed gratitude. "My daughter, Josie has been sick for awhile—" He spoke through his accent.

"Papi?" Elena called softly, suddenly tugging on his blue shirt. "Can I get the picture I drew?" He nodded and Elena ran back to the room down the hall.

Gillian gave him a sympathetic nod. "How's Elena doing?"

"Elena has always been the quiet type, like her mother was." He peered down the hall, and towards the room that his granddaughter had disappeared into. "She's always had the ability to smile—but right now, she is so very heartbroken." His gaze fell upon her arm that was still bandaged. _We all are. _His look seemed to say, as she shifted her arm with a grimace, _I'm sorry if she hurt you._

Footsteps trailed down the hall as Elena came running back with a paper in her hand. She stopped next to her grandfather, looked at him and bravely stepped forward. "I made this for you." Gillian took the paper into her hands, tearing up when she looked over the picture that had been drawn. Two people holding hands in a car; a fire, an angel looking down upon them. "I didn't want you to forget me."

Even though it hurt, Gillian crouched down beside her as Elena wrapped her arms around her neck. It seemed like hours instead of minutes that Gillian held her tightly, before she let go.

"I will never forget you, Elena." Gillian gave a teary-eyed smile; brushing her thumb over her cheek. The little girl perked up a little at the remark, and sniffled.

"Gillian?" Elena paused, almost hesitating on what she wanted to say next. Suddenly she had a sudden fascination with one of the tiles in front of her. "Can I come visit you some time?"

Reaching into her purse, Gillian pulled out some of the Lightman cards that she kept in her purse, and handed one to Albert. "Tell you what. . . I will give this card to your grandpa, and if you ever want to come visit, you can."

"Really?"

"Really. But I want you to get better first."

Elena scrunched her nose up. "What do you mean?"

"You just lost someone very important to you, Elena."

"Oh." It was slight, but Elena's bottom lip trembled as she looked up her grandpa. Her grandfather gave her a reassuring smile and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"Elena. Why don't you go see if your father is ready to leave?" Shrugging, she waved and then disappeared back into the room. "Thank you again, Gillian."Flipping the card between his fingers he pocketed it in his shirt and left. He looked like he wanted to say so much more, but that his words would suffice for now.

Gillian sighed several times before the bathroom. As soon as she had closed and locked the stall, was when she looked at the picture and really cried it all out. What she really wanted to do was go up and see Sophie and hug her tightly, but there was something she had to take care of first. A place she had avoided, for pretty much the entire week.


	42. New and Old

As Gillian closed the cab for the second time today, she stood in front of the familiar building: The Lightman Group. Even though it had only been a week since the attack—it seemed a lot longer since standing here again.

As she walked through the door, she tried to walk as normally as possible. Her shoulder was still in the sling—which didn't really seem out of the ordinary—and got the distinct feeling that she was being watched. Still, she ignored it and walked down the hall, before slipping into her office.

A sigh of relief escaping from her lips as she sat down behind her desk. She grabbed her personal laptop that she had left and the old picture of Sophie, before slipping off her sling and carrying everything out of the office.

This time as Gillian walked back down the hall, she nearly collided with Ria Torres, who was coming out of the computer lab.

"Sorry." Ria uttered as that feeling of realization came over them. "Lightman said that you were taking an extended leave—"

Gillian looked slightly confused. Of course he would have told them that she was taking an extended leave. She hadn't been at the office for almost a week, and had appeared twice since then. "I am." She paused on that note. "And so is Lightman."

She turned to leave, Ria suddenly by her side. "I'm confused. You're both taking an extended leave at the same time? You're not—"

Spinning on her heels, Gillian raised her eyebrow. "Romantically inclined?" She could have laughed if it hadn't been partially true."No."

"Besides the two of you playing hooky from work and coming up looking worse for wear, how does Lightman look? That being that you've seen him recently."

"He's fine. But don't expect him to be up to speed when he comes back." Gillian warned, trying to hide the concern. He was lucky that he hadn't gotten away with a few internal injuries and nothing more.

As she opened her mouth to say something more, Eli Loker came around the corner. He looked like he something rather important to say and was walking quickly towards them.

"We'll talk later?"

"Sure." Although it left Ria slightly confused, she didn't have time to think about it much when Loker approached.

"Why was Foster at the office? I thought Lightman said she was on extended leave."

"Apparently, she still is. And so is Lightman."

"They're not having some fling that we don't know about—"

"No, she denied having an romantic relationship with Lightman. Although, when I actually mentioned Lightman's name, she looked worried. She was nursing her shoulder upwards, like she had sustained a new injury—and she had new bruises and cuts on her arms and face."

"You're thinking that Foster and Lightman got in a fight?"

"There was no hostility in her voice, but there was a lot of guilt."

"So you're thinking that Lightman was injured just like Foster was, and now she's blaming herself for whatever happened to them."

"Something like that." Ria peered down at the file in his hand. "What's in the file?"

"Information that should help us solve this case." Eli offered as they made their way into the computer lab.

When Gillian arrived back home, she placed the computer on the couch and carefully took off the sling. Already she had nearly had it on, back and forth for the last week. It was getting annoying that she couldn't keep if off for longer than an hour or so, before her whole arm and shoulder began to ache.

Having finished all but a day's worth of medicine, she had refused the second prescription so to get back to normal as soon as possible. If she decided to drive tomorrow to pick up Sophie from the hospital—there was no way that she was going to chance being drowsy or confused on the way over.

Grabbing some of Sophie's clothes that were still draped over the couch, she slowly walked up the stairs; her body stiff and worn from the week. There was still so much to do before Sophie came back. Who knew how much additional worry she would have from her little girl's newly diagnosed heart condition?

Walking towards the unused guest room, she hung up the clothes in the empty closet. It looked rather bare, considering that she didn't have much to put in there just yet. The room had been painted white by the previous owner; there were paintings against the wall that she didn't know what to do with; an old desk that was up against the wall that she usually kept her laptop on. Now with the chain of events that had gone down the last week, there had been about zero time to change this room around for Sophie's sudden arrival.

It had been almost three years since she had searched for anything child related—which she was pretty sure that the times had changed since then. Even though the psychological part of her was telling her that everything going to be alright, the logical side of her began to panic.

And then her mind flickered back to an image of Sophie's room. All her stuffed animals sitting at the edge of her bed, her pink and white bedspread; the books on the shelf in her closet. This little girl already had everything that she ever needed, right there in her own home. Although both Ava and Sophie had gone without a lot of things, what had been left behind, shouldn't be dismissed so quickly now. A toy she played with, a book she read, or a bed she slept in, would give Sophie some familiarity in a new home.

But how much of that should she start over with? Should she get a new bed, but keep the old bedspread and stuffed animals? Should she pack up all the books and toys, or get new ones? Or a little of both—keep some things, but mix it in with the new books and toys?

It didn't take Gillian long before she realized that she could mix both old and new, and then sat down behind her desk. She thought that since Sophie technically didn't have anything to sleep in, she would search for something new and keep the old bedspread.

She would have to stop by the house again, maybe before the funeral. It would be good for Sophie to see her house one more time before they left it for good. She had no idea how long the house would be there—or what might happen to it, now that Ava was gone.

What she feared the most wasn't that Sophie wouldn't be able to understand how her biological mother had been succumbed by a terminal illness—or how she had come to a place that she too had always been loved—it was if Gillian could love her as much as she did.


	43. Sleep

Walking down the hospital corridor, the nurses smiled as she went past them. Angelica had called and had given her a head's up: they had finished giving Sophie one last checkup, and were releasing her today.

This was the first bit of good news that actually made her smile—so much that she felt well enough to drive over here. And it took her less than a few minutes last night, to make that decision.

It seemed only fair to keep as much of a routine with Sophie as she could, and that would start with not always riding in taxi cabs.

So when she walked in Sophie's room, she had half expected for her little girl to be up and waiting. But when she walked in, Dr. Jacobzi and Angelica were standing by her bed, discussing something privately.

Dr. Jacobzi had the chart in his hand, and turned around with a smile on his face. "Gillian. We were just going over Sophie's discharge plans. I'm afraid that we had a bit of a rough morning and she just fell asleep about fifteen minutes ago." Stepping aside, Sophie was curled up underneath a white hospital blanket; a purple stuffed animal tucked underneath her arm.

"Just so you know—Sophie has been very ornery this morning. Perhaps you'll have better luck when she wakes up."

"Did she not sleep very well?"

"Actually she slept pretty well. The nurse last night only reported her waking a few times during the night. Sophie didn't really want anything to do with her and kept crying for mommy."

Gillian nodded in understanding, and the room fell silent as Sophie stirred again in her bed.

"Mommy?" Sophie called out as she tried desperately rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. It was apparent that the little girl was exhausted, but Gillian wondered if she had heard her talking, or if she was calling out in her sleep.

At first, she didn't want to disturb Sophie. If she could sleep, that would be the best thing. That way she could talk to the doctors and take her home. But during her time as a family psychiatrist, Gillian had been trained to know that when an adopted child cries out, the caretaker should respond within fifteen seconds: verbally or physically. The child then knows that they're always going to be taken care of no matter what.

Running her fingers through her blonde hair, Sophie momentarily stilled at her touch; her body relaxed and her breathing finally evened out after a few minutes.

"Can I suggest we go out into the hall and talk?" Dr. Jacobzi chimed in, breaking the silence. Sophie breathed out deeply and they all walked into the hall.

They got through talking about medicine dosages, warning signs and complications—when they heard Sophie crying out again. "Moommmy!"

"Go ahead. I think that's all we need to talk about right now. I'll go ahead and get the discharge papers finished up, and hopefully we can get you out of here within fifteen to twenty minutes. If you have any questions, feel free to call."

Angelica put a hand on her shoulder and led her back through the door. Sophie was now standing up in her crib, sobbing. She saw Gillian and immediately began reaching her arms out for her.

"Look at that. I think she likes you." Angelica motioned with a smile as she helped Sophie into her arms, and then as they sat down in the rocking chair. "How's the shoulder holding up?"

"It hasn't been too bad. I'm still on some pain medication that I can take if it gets to be too much." Absently, Gillian began to rock as Sophie held onto her tightly.

"I understand. I broke my left leg a couple years ago. It seems like it takes forever to heal, but suddenly it happens and things go back to normal." She peered over at Sophie who had just laid her head on Gillian's shoulder. "She seems to be quite comfortable where she is, so I'm going to leave you two be for a little while. If you need anything, push this button and someone from the nurse's station will come and help."

Gillian nodded, her cheek resting against Sophie's head as they rocked. Angelica slipped out when they weren't looking, and they sat there in silence. It was so comforting that they must have both dozed off. Angelica came back into the room with a wheelchair, a prescription for Sophie and some paperwork.

"Did you two have a good nap?"

"Yeah. How long have we been out?"

"Just a little over a half an hour." She pushed the wheelchair over to the chair. "I thought you could use this, since Sophie fell asleep on you."

"That would be great, thanks."

"I'll let you wake up a little before you sign the discharge papers, because first I need to show you something." Walking across the room, Angelica grabbed something off the nearby counter.

There were two pictures—one in black and white, the other in color—of her and Sophie when they were asleep in the chair. "One of the nurses came in to check up on you. She ended up snapping these pictures and wanted you to have them."

Freeing her hand, Gillian took them into hand and looked them over. The black and white picture had them as the main focus; with the bed and wall in the background. The colored picture was similar but had only them in the frame.

"They're beautiful. Who's the nurse that took these?"

"Her name is Marta. She's one of our Pediatric nurses here on the floor. Busiest person that I've ever seen. She works full-time up here on the Pediatric floor during the day, and does photography at night."

"She definitely has an eye for it."

"I've been telling her that she needs to start kind of business here at the hospital—capturing those little moments."

"I think she should. I know that I'm going treasure these pictures forever. I was thinking about putting one in Sophie's room and taking the other to work. It's about time that I updated the pictures I have of her."

"I'll definitely relate the message along." Angelica chimed in as she grabbed the paperwork. She went over everything with her one last time, and then Gillian signed by the x.

Angelica helped her into the wheelchair, and Sophie hardly moved during the transition. As they wheeled down the hall, a few nurses and doctors smiled as Gillian held on tightly to her little girl.

She felt some pride in the fact that she was holding her daughter in her arms, while she slept. For so long she had been dreaming about this moment—what it would be like to hold her again. What it would feel like to have her in her life. In fact the whole dream was starting to seem a little far-fetched, until now.

As they were wheeled outside, she heard Angelica's voice. "Gillian? You okay?"

"Yeah. I was just thinking about Sophie and going home."

"You'll do great. Don't try to do everything by yourself, or you'll end of burning yourself out. Take it from experience." They wheeled to the curb. "Now where's that car? I heard that you wanted to get home."


	44. VSD

Sophie didn't stay asleep that long. Thirty-five minutes to be exact. Her cries began to escalate as Gillian got out of the car. The whimpers muffled as she closed the door, and we're just as loud as before when she opened the back door to get her out. Sophie held on tightly to her blanket; her arms wrapped around Gillian's neck.

As she turned around, an elderly couple came around the corner. She recognized them as Ed and Tina: her neighbor's from down the street. There was something about remembering faces and voices, because she had only met them a few times since moving here.

"Hello, Gillian. Who do we have here?" Tina inquired pleasantly, as they walked up to the driveway. Sophie didn't seem to agree with their closeness and buried her head into her shoulder.

"This is Sophie."

"Sophie. She reminds me of our youngest granddaughter." Ed chimed in, wrapping his arm around his wife. "She was a little shy of strangers, until she got a little older.

"We're actually going to see her a little later tonight." Tina added in excitedly."How have you been doing? We haven't seen you around lately."

Closing the car door, Gillian shifted Sophie onto her hip. "I've been keeping busy with work. How are you doing?"

"We're doing well." She leaned into her husband, with a big grin on her face. From what Gillian remembered, Ed and Tina had been married for almost forty years. Just seeing them together, made Gillian think about what it would be like to settle down.

"We're trying to get a walk in, before we go over to see our daughter and her family."

"Good. I'm glad that things are going well." Gillian nodded, trying to be polite. At the same time, it was talking everything she had to stay upright, while holding Sophie. The doctor had warned her that she would probably feel a little weak and shaky after the car accident.

"Anyway—we'll let you get back to what you were doing." Tina concluded, leaning into her husband." We just wanted to stop by and say hi." Slowly, they walked back to down the sidewalk. With his bald head and the way he was built, Ed looked like a tower compared to his wife. However, the way they looked at each other; it was clear they were still madly in love.

"Thanks for stopping by."

"Let us know if there's anything that we can do."

"I will." Watching them disappear down the street, Gillian tried to put Sophie on the ground, but she held onto her tighter. With a groan they headed into the house, almost forgetting to lock the car door on the way in.

Sophie finally let go, toddling over to the doll that Ryan had left here; she hugged it, just like she did when she had first arrived. Sighing, Gillian sat there and watched her as she played for a few minutes and then pulled out her phone.

On the third ring, she heard his voice on the other end. "And I was starting to think you would never call." Truthfully, she never thought she would call either. In fact, it was like her fingers had a mind of her own at the moment.

"She loves the doll."

"You may be the only lie expert in the family, but that's not all you called to say, was it?" She could hear the happiness, almost teasing voice of her older brother. It some ways, she felt a slight wave of relief that she had someone to talk to. As much as she loved talking to Ava, they had done a lot of talking recently. And Cal was not an option, even if she could talk to him right now. "Don't answer that, because I know you won't." Ryan cut her off, before she could say anything. "Besides, you were never good at asking for help and wanted to do everything yourself. You never seemed to need protection—you were always fearless."

"I had some good examples." Gillian offered softly, as she absently began to rock Sophie back and forth after she had climbed into her lap.

"You know, you were always a good example. I don't know one person in the neighborhood who didn't want to hang out with you."

Gillian thought back to her past, but it had been awhile since she had thought it. "Sam Meyers."

"Sam Meyers." She heard him chuckle softly. "You do know that he had a crush on you, right? That's why he was always mean to you.

"He was also your best friend. How's he doing?"

Ryan laughed again. "He's good. He just welcomed his third child a couple months ago. They're actually the ones who let me crash with them while I'm here in D.C." He gave a long pause, his tone laced with certain sadness. "Mom and dad would have loved this."

Gillian gave a sad, but grateful smile as she looked down at Sophie. Her little girl was slowly nodding off to sleep as she clutched the doll in her arms. "Mom would have loved spoiling Leila and Sophie."

"Dad would have taken them to the park, just a couple blocks from our old house. He would be thrilled to have grandchildren—since he was always talked about seeing us growing up."

Looking down at Sophie, who was now asleep; her head had lolled to the side and her chest was rising up and down as she slept. Gillian shifted so she was leaning against the pillow and Sophie was sleeping in her lap.

It felt more comfortable than she thought it would be, as her hand rested on the small of her daughter's back. "He always taught us to be who we wanted to be."

"I think we more than accomplished that." Ryan stated proudly. "You became a well-known psychologist, who worked at the Pentagon and now works for the most sought out place in Washington D.C. Sean became a sell-out artist, and I became a successful pilot for one of the biggest airlines in America.

Gillian gave a sleepy smile, now that they had settled down. "We always liked big."

"Yeah, we sure did. They would be proud."

"They are proud, Ryan.

"You're right—" He trailed off as a muffled voice entered the house; she listened to their conversation and recognized the voice right away.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, he just got home with Erin and the baby. They're going to take me out to lunch in a few minutes."

"_Who are you talking to?" _

"Gillian."

"_Your sister. . . Gillian? Where's she living now?" _

"She lives right here in D.C."

"_Somehow I missed that little known fact." _After shuffling the phone, Ryan had either taken or been handed the phone. "Hey Gillian, its Sam. Your brother ran upstairs to get his keys and wallet, so I thought that I should say hi. I hear that you're still living here in D.C."

"Sam? I never really moved out of D.C."

"So I hear. After your family moved out of the neighborhood, I kind of lost track of all of you. Of all places—I ran into Ryan at the airport, while traveling into Minnesota. He never really mentioned what you were up to these days."

"I work and co-own The Lightman Group."

"Okay, I've heard of The Lightman Group before. What do you do there?"

"I take on cases that help decipher whether people are lying or telling the truth."

"You always knew whether people were lying. Your brother once told me that you never forgot a voice, and I bet you still don't."

"I still don't." Gillian agreed modestly. "Ryan mentioned that you just welcomed your third child, congratulations."

"Thank you. After two little boys, I don't think Hannah or I know what to do with this little girl." There was a pause between them. "Ryan just got back, so I'm going to let the two of you continue to talk. It was good catching up with you, Gillian."

"You too."

Another shuffle, Ryan came back on the phone. "Sorry, I forgot my keys and wallet upstairs. How are things with Sophie?"

Giving a second thought to telling him about the whole week, she gave a hesitant sigh. "I found out that Sophie has something called Ventricular Septal Defect." 

He gave a sharp intake of breath. "That sounds like Sophie was just given a very serious diagnosis. What can the doctor do?"

"Ventricular Septal Defect is just another way to say that she has a hole in her heart. As for a treatment plan: she's on medication. I haven't had much time to read up on it, but it's possible the hole could close on its own as she grows older."

"That's good. How are you doing with all of this?"

"I think I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything."

"We're here for you—you know that."

"I know." Gillian confirmed quietly as she listened to the quietness of the house.

"I'll probably be down again in June, but Susan will be coming down with me. I'm sure she would love to see you. Look I have to go now, but I will call later to see how everything's going—"

"We'll be here."

"Gillian?"

"Yeah."

"I love you. Hang in there." Were the last words Gillian heard before she hung up the phone.


	45. Monday

Monday morning seemed to roll around way too quickly. Breakfast went smoother than any other day had—there was more of a routine now. Sophie was playing with some toys in the living room, while Gillian finished cleaning up in the kitchen.

It was getting closer and closer to picking up Emily from school, and there were only a few dozen more things to do before she arrived.

The table and counter were scrubbed down, the dishes were washed, the bed in the guest room was made and a load of laundry was put in. Sophie was put down for a nap, and Gillian finally relaxed on the couch.

When she stirred an hour later, she had to pull herself up because she had to get both of them ready for Ava's funeral. As she watched her sleep in her bed, all covered and warm—all she wanted to do was just sit there and watch her chest go up and down to know that she was still alive.

That and Sophie wouldn't even remotely understand that she was doing this for her; in hopes that it would bring her some closure, and reassure her that her mother had never died in vain. One day Gillian would be able to tell her that her mother had given her away, in pure and selfless love.

At least that's what she hoped she could tell her one day. Right now, there was just so much anger inside for her taking away Sophie; for waiting until the very last moment to give her away.

She wanted to say that going to this funeral would put away the past between them. In reality—with Sophie here—Ava would always live on in her.

Peeking into the room, Sophie was still fast asleep on the bed. Gillian hurried and changed into a black dress, and put her hair up in something nicer than a ponytail. She grabbed one of the few dresses that Sophie had and changed her.

Sophie only moaned and rubbed at her eyes a few times, as Gillian changed her. By the time that she was finished, Gillian picked her up carefully and was headed downstairs when there was a knock on her door.

When she opened it, she was just as surprised to see that Emily was standing there on her doorstep. "Emily. What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in school."

"I got it." Emily interrupted, closing the door behind them, so she didn't have to. "I kind of told the front office that I was sick, and then caught a ride home with a friend."

"The friend that dropped you off—wasn't Sam, was it?"

"Yeah." Emily held onto her bag tightly. "He was kind of the only person that volunteered to take me here."

"I could have gotten you out of school if you needed me to."

"I have a feeling that you would have tried to talk me out of it." Emily adjusted the grasp on her overnight bag. "I hope you don't mind, but dad told me about Ava—thought that you could use someone to go the funeral."

Gillian didn't look too surprised that Cal had put her up to this—didn't listen to her completely about not getting Emily stuck in between everything. "Why don't you go get changed upstairs. There's a guest room, on the first door to your right."

Emily nodded and quickly disappeared upstairs. The door shut with a click, which meant that she had found it easily. While they were waiting, Sophie got into her diaper bag and pulled out an old sippy that had some kind of liquid in it.

"Wata?" She began tipping the sippy cup, and the liquid began sloshing back and forth. Sophie clumsily ended up back in her lap as Gillian sat on the couch.

"We'll fill up your cup before we leave."

"Twirsty now." Sophie pouted, sticking out her bottom lip. "Pwease?"

With a relenting sigh, Gillian held out her hand. "Come on." They both walked into the kitchen hand in hand; Sophie stayed nearby as she watched her wash, rinse and fill up the cup. She took a long sip after the cup was handed to her. "Better?"

Sophie gave a thirsty _"ah" _and the water gurgled after its release. Toddling away with her cup still in her hand, Gillian looked on just as Emily entered the kitchen. She was wearing a very plain, but elegant black dress. Sleeveless; her curly hair fell over her shoulders.

"Is this okay? I didn't really know what to wear."

"You look beautiful." Gathering up her keys and purse. "Should we get going?" With one hand holding the sippy cup, Sophie held up her arms to be held. Although surprised, Emily picked her up.

"This is a pretty doll. Where did you get it from?" Sophie pointed at Gillian as they all stopped at the top of the stairs.

Gillian's eyes glistened as she eyed the doll. "It was mine when I was a little girl. My parents gave it to me, and now I'm giving it to her."

"Gillian?" Emily inquired, adjusting Sophie on her hip. "How come you've never mentioned them before? Your family. I mean, I've known you since I was little and I've never heard you talk about them."

"I have two brothers—one older and one younger. We were all working on careers so we supported each other from a distance—" Gillian's expression seemed to darken when she trailed off.

They both got into the car and buckled up. "What about your parents? Are they still alive?"

"They died in a car accident when I was in college."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

They were both silent for awhile. Gillian kept her eyes on the road, wiping her eyes of unseen tears. Emily would either look out the window or gaze back at Sophie; who at one point was silently peering into the rear view mirror. When Gillian didn't look up however, was when the little girl's lower lip began trembling—one lone tear running down her cheek.

"Hey, Sophie—what's wrong?" Emily inquired, after turning around in her seat. The little girl outstretched her arms to the rearview mirror and whined. When Gillian locked eyes with her in the rearview mirror. The little girl was silent for a moment, before she burst into tears.

It was clear what her intentions were: she wanted to be held. She was fed up with being strapped in her car seat, and was ready to be loved. After being reassured that they were almost there, Sophie continued to cry until they drove into the parking lot

Her hands stretched out as Gillian pulled her out of her seat. She clutched onto Gillian's leg as she reached in and grabbed her purse and Sophie's blanket that had fallen on the floor during the ride over.

Sophie gladly clutched it in her arms—although it was hard for her to hold, because it was now wadded into a ball. Still, she carried it in her arms as they walked into the funeral home.

When they found the room where the funeral would be held, there were several people already sitting in the rows of chairs that had been set up. An older gentleman and his wife were sitting close together; they both expressed much grief and sullen looks as she leaned her head against his shoulder. A mother held her young daughter in her lap, while her son kneeled on the chair next to them as he looked around curiously. Another mother was rocking her baby in her arms; the little boy fighting hard against sleep.

Taking a seat near the front, Emily looked around the room. "Did Ava have any family?" Before she could answer, Corbin walked into the room, with Ashley Petelson following close behind him.

"Hey, Gillian—you remember Ashley Petelson." Corbin introduced as they stood in front of the room.

"It's good to see you both again." Nodding towards one another, Ashley took a seat beside him.

"This is Emily Lightman."

"Cal Lightman's daughter?"

Emily shrugged, giving a light nod. "The one and only."

"I can see the resemblance now. How is he doing?"

"Good. He had some internal injuries, but should be discharged tomorrow."

A few handful of people trickled into the room as an older man walked towards the microphone. He conversed with another man—both who looked to be in charge of the gathering.

A wooden box was propped up on wheels, near the left side of the room. It had a small bundle of colored flowers lying on the top; a blue ribbon tied around the cut stems. A woman with short blonde hair, who was dressed in a white top and black skirt, had two vases in hand, with flowers that matched.

She delicately placed each vase on either side of the microphone, and sat down next to her husband and kids on the back row. As her little boy tugged on her shirt, the service began.


	46. Breaking Point

A/N: Any mistakes will have to be fixed later, because it's a little harder than I thought to start tying up forty-five previous chapters. This chapter specifically focuses on some of the events in Chapter Eight and Twenty. And here begins the countdown to the end (whenever that shall be, I'm not quite sure yet). Enjoy!

* * *

><p>The wind blew softly through the trees; Sophie holding each one of their hands as they walked up to where Ava's casket was being lowered into the ground.<p>

With it just being the three of them at the graveside, there was an air of sadness in her wake. The wind blew through the trees, creating a chilling breeze in the afternoon sky. The darkening clouds were moving quickly through the atmosphere and casting shadows and a grey light to the world.

It took awhile before the numbness wore off and they headed back to the car. Emily got into the front seat, while Gillian quickly buckled Sophie into her car seat. "What do you say we go out for lunch?"

Emily nodded and they both looked back at Sophie who was holding tightly to her doll and blanket. Her eyelids drooped slightly as she fought back falling asleep. "Sure. I don't mind going back though, if you need to put Sophie down for a nap."

Gillian looked at her watch. "It'll probably take about a half an hour to find somewhere to eat. I'm hoping that she'll fall asleep in the car." She started up the engine and backed out.

"Hey, Gillian? Thanks for letting me stay with you. And I'm sorry if I made things difficult earlier."

The car idled in the parking lot. "Emily, you never made anything difficult. You know you're always welcome to come over."

"I know. It's just that you looked surprised when I showed up. And just so you know that it wasn't dad who put me up to coming here."

"I'm glad you came." That quelled any hesitating thoughts and an appreciative glance was cast in both directions. Sophie had finally fallen asleep, with her head crooked to the side. She was able to get about a thirty minute nap in, before they pulled up to an old diner.

Sophie squinted tiredly, letting out a sigh. Her head lay in the crook of Gillian's shoulder as they walked up to the door. The bell rang overhead as they stepped onto the red and white checkered tile floor.

A woman with long red hair and high cheek bones; stepped forward after wiping down a nearby table. "How are you all today?" She inquired pleasantly, grabbing some menus from the wooden shelf near the door. "I take it you all just came from a funeral?"

Gillian nodded, still holding Sophie tightly in her arms.

She waved her hand for them to follow her near the back of the restaurant. "We get a lot of people coming back from funerals, that's why I asked. Passing out the menus, she continued. "Well my name is Myrna and I'll be your server when you're ready. Can I start you off with something to drink?"

"Please. Just water for me." Gillian offered, pulling off Sophie's coat and putting it on the other side.

"And for you?" Myrna turned to Emily, pen ready to scribble down her order.

"Water, please."

"Okay. And for the little one?" The corner of Myrna's lip curled up into a focused smile.

"Do you have milk?"

"We certainly do. Is two percent okay? "

Gillian nodded again, as Emily picked up her menu. "Alright. I'll get that in cup for her, and I'll be right out with your drinks and to take your order."

"Thank you."

Myrna returned a few minutes later with a paper and crayons in her hands. "I forgot to give this to you when you came in." Sophie's eyes lit up as she set everything down in front of her.

"Can you say thank you?"

With the small box of crayons in her hand, Sophie looked up. "Thank you." For the most part, her words were clear; _you _was carefully held out the same way you'd pronounce _moo._

When she returned about five minutes later, Myrna inquired. "Would you like a booster for her?"

"No, thank you."

"Sure. Are you ready to order?"

After they all agreed, Emily began. "I would like the turkey sandwich."

"The turkey sandwich comes on white or wheat bread."

"Wheat, please."

"Fries or a baked potato?"

"Baked potato."

Then it was Gillian's turn. "I would like the Tuna melt with a salad. And chicken nuggets for her—with broccoli."

"We do. Would you like to substitute that for the apple slices?"

"Yes."

"Okay." She finished scribbling everything down, flashing a smile. "I will be back with your food in about ten to fifteen minutes."

"Thank you." They were left alone, as she went behind the counter to talk to a customer. For the most part, Gillian and Emily made small talk; Sophie continued to color until their food came out piping hot in front of them.

When they were left alone, Emily slowly unwrapped her silverware. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"I've been figuring out how to ask this for awhile—practically the whole way to the graveside and all the way back. When you married your husband, how did you know that he was the one?"

"I was actually dating another guy when Alec and I met the first time. It wasn't until after I came back from my parent's funeral that we started dating. He used to make me feel like—I never had to worry."

Emily nodded. "I've had a lot of other boyfriend. I know that I've often used dad to tell me if they're good guys, but this time, I don't really want him to know. Sam believes in waiting until marriage, and I know that I'm at least heading in the right direction."

"Sam does seem like a great guy. Your father may be persistent, but he's doing it because he loves you. "

It was quiet between them as Emily took a sip of water. Sophie was standing up on the bench eating her food. "You know, he does that for you too." Gillian nodded, sighing softly.

* * *

><p>"Would you mind keeping an eye on Sophie upstairs?" Gillian inquired, locking the door after they had walked in. She gave an exhausted groan and placed the bag back by the couch.<p>

"Sure. " Emily threw the blanket back over her shoulder, before picking the little girl up. "Let's go see what we can find in your room." After they had disappeared into the hallway; with their backs turned to her, Gillian dug into her purse and weighed whether to take the forgotten pill.

The pain in her shoulder was coming in waves now, and was hardly masked. Her hands were shaking as she opened the cabinet, but the movement caused an electric jolt to go through her and the glass shattered to the floor.

She placed the pill on the counter and was cleaning up the shards when Emily stepped into the kitchen with Sophie on her hip. Both were a little wide-eyed, upon seeing the mess.

"What happened?"

"I was getting a glass out of the cabinet and it must have slipped through my hands."

Emily put Sophie down and she toddled off. "Did anybody ever tell you that you were a bad liar?" The sound of scraping glass diminished as Gillian stood to grab the trash can.

When they met each other's gaze, the tension broke and the answer was clear: _yes. _

"Do you have a broom?"

"In the garage—should be sitting by the door as you're coming into the house."

Emily willingly went off, without asking. When she was alone, Gillian managed to grab a less breakable glass, and swallowed the pill by the time that she had entered the room again.

"When dad brought you to the house, he was bringing you home from the hospital, wasn't he?

"Yes. Not because I was hurt. I went to visit an old friend, when I received the call that Ava was in the hospital. Her doctor mentioned that she only had about a week at most to live."

"I take it she didn't tell you." Emily swept some glass into the dust pan.

Her eyes glistened, which spoke volumes. "No, not until she ended up in the hospital."

"I can understand why you didn't want to talk to her." The glass made a resounding thud when it hit the bottom of the trash can. "But you must have been wondering why she was there."

"Nothing could have prepared me for what she was asking."


	47. Release

Cal's movements were slow and calculated as he moved about the hospital room. Emily was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Where's Foster?"

"She's talking to your doctor about getting you out of here. You know they're not going to let you walk out like that."

He eyed her. "Since when did I get such a smarty pants for a daughter?" They shared a smirk and then he finished packing up the rest of his belongings.

"Are we almost ready to go, Mr. Lightman?" A nurse inquired, pushing the wheelchair into the room. In avoidance of noticing, he turned back to zip up his bag and almost missed the distinct pitter patter of feet coming down the hall. "Sounds like you have another visitor."

A few seconds later, Sophie ran into the room and hugged his leg. Gillian appeared a few minutes after that and watched the scene unfold.

"She yours? Or is she his?"

Gillian shook out of her thoughts. "She's mine. Emily is his daughter."

"Ah, well she's lucky to have all of you. I wish all of my patients had the same support system." They watched Emily snatch Sophie up in her arms so Cal could move around again. Often times she would hold Sophie close and he made faces and pretended like he was going to tickle her. "Before you all got here, he was talking about walking out of here just like that. He's refused all pain medication since earlier this morning."

There was a determined look on Gillian's expression, as if she were mentally preparing to face him. The only thing she didn't have to ask was why he wasn't taking the pain medicine, because in reality it was just Cal being Cal. Yet, she didn't know what excuse he was going to give her.

"I'm going to check up on a patient down the hall. I'll be back in a few minutes when you're all ready to leave."

"Thanks." The nurse turned and left the room, leaving them alone. Cal and Gillian kissed cheeks in greeting.

"How are you, Love? I take it they're not letting me leave yet, considering that my ride out of here just left the room."

"She went to check up on another patient. Not taking your pain medication, Cal?"

"Right. I know that was a bad question to start off with—considering that opened a lot of doors in my favor." Emily was still holding Sophie as they gazed out the window— which was a great distraction to block out the impending argument. "The medication makes me feel all fuzzy—"

He didn't have to finish that sentence for her to know what he was thinking. "It might help you so you don't end up on the floor, or back in the hospital." The point stood for itself; as he tried to pull his arm through his jacket and recoiled in pain.

The nurse walked back in several minutes later, handing Gillian a prescription note. "I'll give this to you. It's a prescription for painkillers—"She turned to Cal. "Just in case the pain seems overwhelming and you feel like you need to take something."

"You really don't take no for an answer, do you?" He sat down in the wheelchair; legs almost buckling out from underneath him on the way down.

"It's mandatory for all patients, Mr. Lightman." Placing his bag gently on his lap, the nurse began wheeling him out of the room.

Emily turned just as Gillian touched her shoulder. "How long do you think it's going to take my dad to recover from this?"

"At least four to eight weeks."

"But you know that's not going to last, right? I'm supposed to spend next week with mom, and I'm kind of worried about leaving him at the house by himself."

"For the next twenty-four hours, he doesn't have a choice. After that, I can't guarantee he'll ask for help." As they walked out into the hall, Cal was sitting by the nurse's desk waiting for them.

As they paused just outside of the room, Emily glanced over at her. "You see what everybody else sees, don't you? "

"We've been friends so long that it seems normal to be friends."

"But it's never been you just being friends. I overheard you telling dad that you needed him too, which means he's already told you how he felt, right?"

"In a choice amount of words." Gillian gestured down the hall. "Speaking of your father he's probably wondering where we went to." They forged down the hall, side by side. When they arrived, Gillian stood to the side and Emily kissed his forehead.

"What was that for?"

Emily shrugged nonchalantly. "No reason."

He eyed her suspiciously. "You two have been talking about me again, haven't you?" Neither one answered as the nurse rounded the corner of the desk.

"When don't we talk about you?" Emily teased.

"Okay, Mr. Lightman. You are officially released and free to go home. As long as you follow the doctor's orders, I don't plan on seeing you back here any time soon." The nurse gave him pleasant smile. "This must be the woman you keep talking about."

"Dr. Gillian Foster, Lillian. Her daughter Sophie and my daughter Emily."

"Nice to meet all of you." The nurse adjusted her stethoscope and wheeled him towards the elevators. "Well sounds like you're one lucky man. If you don't mind me asking—how long have you known each other?"

Cal looked stumped and his thoughts were clouded; courtesy of the pain he was in. Fortunately Gillian was privy to his thoughts and stepped in quickly. "Eight years."

"Sounds like you two have a good friendship."

"I like to think we do." The corner of his lips curved up mischievously. Clearly an underlining meaning was in there somewhere.

"I'm going to pull the car around." Gillian broke the silence as they elevators slid open. Sophie reached for her and Gillian made sure that she was positioned on the opposite side of her healing shoulder.

"Was it something I said?" Cal inquired as she walked away. It took him a moment but he turned to the nurse, dismissing her. "I think we can take it from here. Em, a hand?" It took him a few tries but with the help of her and leaning against the wheelchair, he stood ever so slowly. "Something changed while I was away."

"Things change all the time, dad."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you were a bad liar?"

"I'm pretty sure you tell me that all the time." Emily smiled at the comeback. All in good nature, he placed his palm against her forehead and tried to push her over as he momentarily leaned against the wall.

A few minutes later, they continued to walk out the door; away from the colorful scrubs and commotion of the hospital. "You still didn't answer my question from earlier." His accent was thicker, almost slurred now. "Are you keeping secrets from me?"

Gillian pulled up seconds after he posed the question. She unbuckled her seatbelt, prepared to step out, but he held up his hand. "I've got it." He sat down with a quizzical look on his face, as if he was second guessing not taking that medication.

"Cal? Your seatbelt." He quickly clicked it into place at her insistence.

His head lolled from side to side as they drove. "How is that you're driving four days after we got in a car crash? Emily could have driven."

"I'm only fifteen, dad." Emily spoke up from the back seat.

"That's right, I knew that." Cal claimed, even though it sounded like a lame excuse for his confusion. Other than the fact that his tiredness and pain were mixing together and throwing him through a hazy loop.


	48. Significance

Letting out a deep sigh, he noticed a small white bag sitting to the side of him, and a capped bottle of water that was half open. His expression was one of confusion.

"You okay?" Gillian pulled on the brake, and took the keys out of the ignition.

His confusion only deepened as he turned and reached out to unbuckle his seatbelt. When he grunted, it wasn't because of the pain that was shooting through his stomach whenever he moved; it was in response to her question.

"There really is nothing like home, is there?" He mused as Gillian put her hand on the small of his back. Emily held Sophie's hand and followed at a slower pace behind them as they all walked up the driveway.

Emily tossed her keys up to Gillian and helped Sophie walk up the stairs. When they were inside, Cal practically collapsed on the couch with a sigh of relief, while Gillian went into the kitchen.

As Emily took Sophie upstairs to find some old toys, Gillian trailed back into the living room about ten minutes later. Half asleep, he made what he thought was a keen observation. "I can hear you standing there."

"I think the correct term is walking into the room." She answered with an air of delight, without smiling. He didn't seem to notice however, because his eyes were still closed and he seemed to be fading in and out of consciousness.

It was clear that the pain seemed to be a little too much, even for the infamous Cal Lightman—it was continually twisting and slurring his words together. Even though things weren't much better on her end, Gillian had that determined look in her eyes as she walked out the front door.

A few minutes later, she came back with satisfaction; his bag strapped over her shoulder and the white prescription bag in hand. She stood in almost the same spot she had been standing in when he called out to her.

Cal was unpredictable at times, so she half expected him to pretend and open his eyes again as she turned away. Instead, he laid there like a tipped over statue: pushed over from some disastrous event.

In some odd way, it had been disastrous. Who could forget that they had just been in a car accident? Since Cal had been driving, he had received the most injuries. He had the surgery, while she had gotten a sling—which she no longer wore.

Her shoulder still hurt at times. She still had the nightmares, but they seemed to happen more when she was alone. And then it hit her: she wasn't alone any more.

Perhaps she had never been alone. But ever since losing Sophie—then the divorce from Alec—there had always been a void in her heart.

Now that void seemed to be filling when she realized that Sophie would be up there waiting for her. Gillian had to keep reminding herself that no one was ever going to take her away again. At that final thought, she finally released the breath she had been holding and walked upstairs.

Doing so left an impressionable thought in her mind: it had been two weeks since she had been here last—at least since she was attacked while walking out to her car.

With considerable effort, he had picked her up out of her seat, and was carrying her to the house. "Cal—what are you doing?

"You fell asleep on the way from the hospital."

Although the memory was still slightly fuzzy, she had called him out on his good intention. Any remaining energy was used to look over his shoulder. "I know you're better than that. You really didn't think I would notice that you took me to your house?"

Gillian hadn't really expected an answer, but that was the last thing she remembered, until waking up in his room. After that, she had walked across the hall to where Emily had been sitting with earplugs in her ears. It had also been the day that Corbin had delivered the envelope from Ava.

Not much had changed since that day—except Emily sitting on her bedroom floor with Sophie. Both looked comfortable, running their cars down the red plastic of the old car garage play set.

She sat down carefully against the wall, answering Emily's silent question. "He's asleep."

"I thought he might be. He often zones out when he's thinking or tired—" Sitting up, Emily toyed with the plastic car in her hand, and Sophie stopped to watch her with a curious gaze. "I don't think he's going to take what the doctor prescribed."

"Neither do I." Her expression conveyed her thoughts, before she said the words.

"But you bought them anyway, because he would have done the same for you."

Gillian gave a soft nod. "Before we got in the crash, I only agreed to go to dinner with him if it was close to the hospital." Skipping over the phone call from her friend Anna, as well as the disappointment the waitress had shown when she found that she and Cal weren't a "real" couple, she leaned her head back against the wall.

"The place you went to . . . was it called the Noodle Place?"

"Yeah."

Emily gazed over her shoulder distantly, as if she were recalling an old memory. "I asked dad if he would take me there one day. He told me he only took those he wanted to spend the rest of his life with—which kind of confused me at the time."

The house grew silent, with the exception of Sophie; who continued playing with the toys scattered around her on the floor.

"I was seven, and I didn't really understand what it all meant. We did end up deciding on our own restaurant to go to, but the noodle place always seemed to hold special meaning to him.

"Your father always has a theory for everything."

"True." Emily stated, just as Gillian's phone gave a muffled ring in her pocket.

Pulling it out she answered with a slightly confused tone. "Gillian Foster."

"Ms. Foster?"

"Yes, speaking."

"My name is Bob Staten from Mattress Firm. I was just calling to confirm your order for the deluxe toddler bed. We're here at the house, ready to deliver it. We just need a signature from you and we'll be out of your way. Also a courtesy to you for being our customer, we also set up the bed, with no extra charge to you. Is that something you're interested in doing?"

"That would be great, thanks. How long will it take to set up?"

"Oh, I'd say no more than ten to fifteen minutes."

"I'll be there in ten minutes." And then she hung up with a final note. Her eyes flickered up to Emily, who was now helping Sophie figure out the abacus.

"Who was that?"

"That was the company I ordered Sophie's bed from. They're at the house, so I'm going to head back and let them in."

"Okay." Emily sat up from the lounging position that she had taken up. "Gillian?"

"Yeah."

Emily looked as if she were going to say something else, but changed her mind at the last moment. "I can watch Sophie if you want—while you go. That way she won't be in the way."

Quickly weighing the pros and cons of bringing a toddler with her, Gillian threw an appreciative nod in her direction. "I'll have my cell phone on if you need anything. I shouldn't be more than an hour."


	49. For Her-Part I

"Sam." Emily greeted as she answered the back door. "What are you doing here? We weren't supposed to meet for any lab stuff that I know of."

"I know this could be out of line, since we're just kind of lab partners. After you told me that your dad was having surgery, I kept wondering about it and thought I would stop by to see how he was doing."

**"**It's been a little crazy around here.**" **Loosening her grip on the door, Sophie walked by. "He's doing well. Actually, he's sleeping in the other room."

"And you're kid sitting too. Impressive."

They both looked over at Sophie, who was pulling on the edge of her shirt. "I offered to watch her while her mom went to do some errands."

"She belongs to your dad's friend, right?"

"Yeah. Gillian has been like a second mom to me, ever since I was a little girl."

"And so her and your dad have been working together ever since?"

"Pretty much." Emily shrugged, while Sophie was almost permanently attached to her hip. They both own _The Lightman Group._"

"I think I've actually heard of that place a time or two. They use psychology to solve cases, right?"

"Each person on their team has a different skill that helps them solve cases. For instances: my dad is pretty good at reading microexpressions, while Gillian is good at voice analysis."

"Voice analysis. So what . . . she finds the lies in your words?"

"She never forgets a voice."

"And your dad just knows?"

"Yeah, he's always kind of been like that. Often times he enjoys it."

"But you don't?"

"Not when he tries to read me every minute of the day." She looked towards the house. "Speaking of my dad. . . I should probably be checking up on him,"

"Right . . . the surgery." Looking at his watch again, he pulled his keys out of his pocket.

"Nice car." Emily stopped abruptly, to admire the Mercedes Benz parked in her driveway.

"Thanks. It's actually my mom's. I'm supposed to be picking her up from the airport in about an hour."

"That's pretty cool that she lets you drive it."

"I guess." Shrugging like it was no big deal; he got behind the wheel and started it up. "She doesn't let me drive it often, but when she does . . . well it's kind of fun."

"Doesn't she ever worry about you crashing such an expensive car?"

"She worries all the time, and hopes that I won't crash when she's away." He called from behind the wheel. "So I'll see you around school then?"

She caught a faint smile from behind the window. "Okay. But I think we only have one class together."

"Then I will see you there." With that final note, he backed out of the driveway and drove away.

* * *

><p>As soon as she had parked, Gillian noticed a man with a scruffy beard walking towards her. By the time she had reached for her purse that was in the passenger seat, he was pointing towards the house to one of his men—which gave her enough time gather the strength to walk over.<p>

"I'm Bob Staten." He introduced, shaking her hand. "We talked over the phone. We got your delivery a little earlier than was expected, and I'm not sure but our secretary was supposed to contact you about delivering the bed today, but I'm guessing by your reaction that you didn't. Sorry about that."

"It's fine."

Gesturing for the men waiting in the back of the truck, they pulled out the mattress and other pieces of the bed to assemble. "If you'd sign here—we'll get the bed set up and let you get back to your day."

She did just that, and they made light conversation as she led them upstairs. "I take it this is your first?" Gillian nodded, not really wanting to get into the full story about how she had adopted Sophie with her then husband, only to lose her and unexpectedly adopt her back. "Well, this is one lucky kid then. My son is four and has one of these beds and more often than not, he falls right to sleep."

"That's good to know."

"As soon as we get it together, I'll show you how to take the side pieces off, when your kid no longer needs them. I'm William, by the way."

"Gillian."

"Nice to meet you Gillian. You can either stay, or if you have something else you need to do around the house, we'll let you know when we have it put together." At that moment her phone chose to ring, and she excused herself from the room. "Gillian Foster."

"Gillian, its Albert Juarez—Elena's grandfather. I hope I'm not bothering you."

"Not at all. Is everything okay with Elena?"

"That's what I was calling you about." His Spanish accent was thick with emotion. "Elena has refused to go to therapy. She screams at night because of nightmares and she's stopped talking. Her father and I have been debating this for days, whether to call you. We didn't know what else to do. "

"I'm glad you did." Making her way into the other room, she shut the door and booted up her computer just in case she needed to give a list of referrals.

"I was hoping that either I or her father could bring her in to see you."

Now her thoughts were becoming a conflict of interest. One side longed to see that little girl again. It had been ages since she had done any kind of family therapy, that she felt quite rusty—while the other side said that it was a bad idea to even get involved. Yet, it only took a moment of silence, before she agreed for Elena to be brought to her office tomorrow afternoon.

* * *

><p>Cal smacked his lips dryly as he laid there on the couch. "Em?" He tried to get up, but his efforts were thwarted by pain. He was in so much of it, that he didn't see her sitting there until she got up. "How long have you been sitting there?"<p>

"For the last half an hour. I was getting caught up on my reading." She nodded over to the book, now resting in the middle of the cushioned chair.

"Mhmm…. "

"Gillian will be back soon. You should really think about eating something." Sitting on the edge of the coffee table, she let her hands rest on her knees."

"I don't really feel like eating anything right now, Em."

"Maybe you would, if you took the pills your doctor prescribed."

"I can do without them."

"Do you think now is the best time to be stubborn? Besides, you don't want Gillian taking care of you for the rest of your life, do you?" There was a long pause between them as she realized the significance of his silence. "You do."

"Hand me that pillow, will you?" He inquired towards the pillow that had fallen to the ground.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but Gillian hasn't really been herself lately." She fluffed the pillow up and carefully placed it behind his back. "I think she really needs you. And if anything . . . you should take the pills for her."


	50. For Her-Part II

A little on the short side...but glad to have it written. My hard drive pretty much crashed on my old computer and I ended up just getting a new computer altogether. The bad news is that I lost everything that I had written for this chapter and other things that I had been working on. Yet, it's hard to believe that in just two chapters from now, this story will end. If fifty plus chapters won't be enough for you... there will be a sequel in the works for more crazy adventures to happen.

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><p>When Gillian returned, she also expected to see Cal sleeping on the couch. Instead she found it empty—leaving her to question what had taken place during the short time that she had been gone. She then stepped into the kitchen after seeing the light on; hoping that he had gone in here to eat something, but instead she walked into a different scenario.<p>

Emily was standing on the side of the kitchen island, rolling out cookies and placing them on the cookie pan. Sophie was standing on a chair nearby, working on her own dough. When she noticed Gillian walk in, Sophie proudly held it up for her to see.

"Cookies?" Gillian gave her a soft smile, while pretending to gobble up her dough.

"It was a way to keep her busy until you got back. She was starting to get a little sad when she realized that you weren't here." They both looked over at the little girl, who was clearly trying to figure out more ways to play with her dough. "We just started about a half an hour ago."

Gillian nodded her appreciation, running her fingers through Sophie's blonde hair."And your father-"

"He's upstairs." Emily hesitated, finally deciding to tell her. "Something about the medicine kicking in and the couch no longer being comfortable enough." A pause followed as her eyes flickered over to the overturned, white prescription bag. "He did it for you, you know." The tension in the air seemed to shift at the revelation, and Gillian sucked in a deep breath. Emily, however, seemed to be on the other side of the spectrum; a twinkle in her eye that said she was aware of something that Gillian wasn't.

Then it dawned on her as Emily turned to put the cookies into the oven, that she might have something to do with him taking the medicine. At some point, Emily had agreed with her and Cal being together—even though they weren't really together. Besides him professing his love for her at the hospital and the mere thought that she needed him too—Gillian was unsure as to just how that could be accomplished.

"How long ago did he take it?"

"About an hour ago—just before Sophie woke from her nap." Emily called over her shoulder; the oven closing with a slight thud behind her. "I didn't actually have to say much, you know. He likes to be strong, but he knows that you were right..and I think he wants to spend the rest of his life with you . . . he just doesn't know how to say it."

"He actually said that?"

"In not so many words. Actually, he didn't have to say anything."

"I'm going to check up on your father." Gillian excused herself, while taking Emily's revelation into thought. By the time that she had walked to the stairs, she felt quite overwhelmed with that bit of knowledge. By the the time that she gotten to the end of the hall, she managed to compose herself a little. And when she walked slowly back into the room, she couldn't help but sit on the edge of his bed.

She sat there quiet for several minutes before his eyes fluttered open. It was clear that she didn't mean to wake him, but she her body was stiff and she couldn't seem to move away from him.

His voice was groggy as he called out to her. "How long have I been asleep?"

"About an hour."

He sat up with a groan, then sank back down into the pillow. "You're bothered about something, otherwise you wouldn't be sitting on my bed."

"It didn't stop you from doing the same thing a couple weeks ago." She reminded him firmly, taking his hand and pressing her fingers against the radial artery in his wrist.

"Good point." He paused collecting his thoughts. "What's the diagnosis, doctor?"

She finished taking his pulse before answering. "Sometimes medication can cause complications."

"This one hasn't apparently." He guessed as she released his arm. With her help, he was able sit up comfortably against the pillow for a few minutes; adding for effect when he noticed the lack of humor in her expression. "Yet. You were saying something about why you were bothered."

"I never did." She countered, giving him a look, as if to say _"You're doing it again."_

"Ah, well. . . I couldn't read your mind even I could." She wasn't going to give him the pleasure of telling him that he was, so she stared past his shoulder. "Is it something I said?" She shook her head, but stayed silent. Finally after a few minutes, he reached up and touched her cheek. "Want to talk about it?"

She shook her head, letting out sigh. "Not right now." Standing up to leave, he grabbed her hand.

"Remember when you said that you would keep me in the loop?"He paused, letting his concern trail off, as she broke physical contact and walked out of the room. It was then that she realized that she could have a few minutes to herself, since Emily and Sophie were still downstairs. She returned to the guest bedroom, but couldn't catch her breath as she quietly shut the door behind her.

It took several minutes before she even moved from the door, and laid down on the bed. She was exhausted, but continued to stare and listen to Sophie and Emily interact downstairs, until she could no longer keep her eyes open.

* * *

><p>"Dad. . . what are you doing up? You're supposed to be in bed." Emily exclaimed as he walked into the kitchen.<p>

"I'm not an invalid. . . I can walk. Where's Gillian?" Looking around, he finally found what he was searching for and snatched up the pill bottle, from where it was sitting on the side counter.

"You can't take that for another three hours." Emily warned him. "And I thought Gillian was with you."

"She was. She came upstairs looking upset—then I fell back to sleep, courtesy of these." He shook the bottle as the pills rattled around inside.

"She actually looked upset when she walked through the door."

"Why? What happened?"

"She didn't actually say that anything did happen." Emily shrugged as she helped Sophie off the stool to wash her hands. "She got a phone call saying that Sophie's bed had arrived, then left and came back. Did you look in the guest bedroom?"

"Of course I looked in the guest bedroom."

Emily thought about her whereabouts. "What about my room or the attic? I never heard her leave, so she's got to be around here somewhere."

"I already checked your room, but not the attic. Thanks, Love." And with that, he retreated back upstairs.


	51. Breakdown

Here's the second to last chapter. Got it out a little quicker this time. If you've been reading this story. . . please make sure to review. I have the guest reviews open, as well as you can review from twitter, facebook, etc., if you don't have a fanfiction account. Well, enjoy! The last chapter will hopefully be out soon. I'll be taking a little bit of a break-so I most likely won't be starting the sequel soon after I finish this story. Instead, I'll try to take that time to work on some of my other stories that I've put on hiatus to focus on this story. Enjoy!

And I made this chapter shorter so that I can hopefully focus the remaining subjects in the last chapter.

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><p>In the attic. He would have to thank Emily for that suggestion later, but for now he watched his business partner and friend—the woman that he loved—sobbing quietly, in the old rocking chair that he had bought just before Emily had been born.<p>

The floorboard squeaked under his weight, which caused her to take in a deep breath and wipe furiously at the tears that were falling down her cheeks.

"Never in a million years did I think I'd find you sitting in my attic." He joked, sitting down on an old storage container. Gillian sniffled; the corner of her lips formed a weak smile. "You've got me baffled on this one, Love. That or it's the medicine that I'm on—and that is some pretty strong liquid that the doctor prescribed." She sighed in response, but didn't even try to smile this time. He brushed his fingers across her cheek, to wipe away a stray tear running down her left cheek. "C'mere."

At one point, he had to practically pull her out of the chair so she was squished beside him on the storage box. She covered her eyes as he wrapped his arm around her, until her head was leaning into his shoulder. Cal ignored the protest in his body, rather holding her close until she had quieted down again.

She sat up slowly, wiping the tear streaks from her cheeks. When he looked back at her, the purple bags underneath her eyes seemed more prominent; she looked exhausted, like she was going to fall over. "I needed that."

"Look me in the eye and tell them that you're okay."

She couldn't meet his eyes, but a moment. "I'm okay."

"Liar." Both of their expressions brightened a little, and she nudged him back for his smart aleck response. "Does your daughter know that you beat people up for a living?"

"She's almost two." She reminded him; her breath shuddering from the previous crying spell, while her tone held hope that Sophie wouldn't know the true meaning of many things in life for years to come.

Stretching a little too much to expel the growing pain in his body, he winced. She seemed to notice, but didn't point it out just yet, so he continued. "I hate to tell you. . . they grow up too fast. If I had my way—Emily wouldn't be driving until she was thirty."

Nodding, he felt her silent stare; her words were uttered numbly. "How long have you been in pain?"

"Since I sat down on this container." He offered directly, cutting to the chase. "Are you going to tell me why you're sitting in my attic?"

"It was the quietest place in the house." She offered simply, like that was enough information for the time being. "You were sleeping and Sophie and Emily are downstairs."

He took in a sharp breath, as if he understood what he had just walked into. Yet, no matter how much pain he was in, he didn't move a bit. "I seemed to ruin the moment, didn't I love?"

She shook her head, suddenly revealing what really was on her mind. "I'm seeing Elena tomorrow." Her shoulders lowered as if the weight had been temporarily lifted from her.

"The girl who survived the car accident."

Nodding in his direction, she got up and sat back in the rocking chair so she could face him. "According to her grandfather, she refused to go to therapy and has stopped talking all together."

"And he thinks that you can fix her."

Sighing, she leaned back in the chair so her head was resting against the wood. "It's been years since I've practiced family therapy."

"I don't believe you need that, love." Her eyes flickered to him with a deep look of confusion. "Look at the way you are with Sophie...a natural is what you are." He stood up, carefully stretching and working the kinks out. "Even though we're both devoted to our lives to psychiatry and medicine, sometimes we break the rules for the ones that we care for."

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><p>It had been the first time in awhile that she had slept that long, or that soundly. After her talk with Cal, she seemed more satisfied—a little more calm—that was until she realized that Sophie wasn't still sleeping next to her. Flipping the covers back, she stepped out of bed and looked around. When she realized that her daughter was nowhere in the room, she walked down the steps and into the kitchen.<p>

Cal was sitting at the table, a bowl of cereal in front of him; Sophie was standing on the chair next to him, pushing cereal around on the table with her finger—occasionally taking one or two of them and stuffing them into her mouth. "Momma." Sophie pointed in her direction after seeing her leaning against the door frame.

"Hi." Gillian waved at her, and couldn't help but smiling brightly. Sophie gave a cheeky smile back and went back to eating the remaining cheerios scattered in front of her.

"Now that's a smile I haven't seen in awhile. Feeling better, love?"

Walking across the room, she sat down at the end of the table; her chin resting on the palm of her hand. "I don't think I've slept that long in awhile." She admitted, watching her daughter, devour the last of food. "Is Emily already at school?" Her eyebrows drew up in surprise, after finding that it was already a quarter past nine.

"About an hour ago, but after school she's going straight to mum's house for the week." Walking further into the kitchen, he dug into the cabinet and pulled out a white mug. "Coffee?"

"Please."

He poured the hot liquid into the mug, casually inquiring to her plans for the day. "What time are you thinking about stopping by the office?" Then he poured and stirred in all the necessary things she included into her coffee—already knowing it all by heart.

"I set the meeting up for around eleven." Gillian offered, keeping an eye on Sophie.

He walked back to the table and handed her the mug. "Thanks." Taking a sip, the thought occurred that he knew it by heart as she took a sip.

"How would you feel about trying the whole dinner thing again?" Her eyes widened slightly as she took another sip. "Sooner or later, you know that we're going to have to get back out there...to our company that is. So we might as well enjoy it while we have the time."

She nodded with interest. "Maybe then I can find out what lies you told our employees."

"About our whereabouts? I told them you were on extended leave-"

"We're talking about two individuals who were trained to read lies. Both have seen me way too many times to believe that I'm just on extended leave."

"A fair point. However, we are talking about Loker and Torres here." She gave him a look that equaled to _"Are you out of your mind, Cal?" _as she set her cup back down on the table.


	52. Rest Of You

"Cal?" Gillian grabbed his attention as he dozed off on the couch. He had taken his next dose of pain medicine after they had gotten some breakfast, about an hour prior.

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to the office now." Holding Sophie's hand, they began walking to the front door; his eyes were glazed over with sleep.

"Cal?"

"I heard you, love." He laid his head back on the pillow.

"I'll have Sophie with me. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone, so call me if you need anything." Trailing towards the door, she stopped again. Cal." Something in her tone made him snap awake again; the look in her eyes was pleading that he didn't do anything stupid while she was away and hoped that he understood.

"I will." He promised as she unlocked the door. With a lazy wave of his hand, he reassured her. "Go on. I have everything that I need here." Reaching into her pocket, she waited until she had closed the door behind her, before pulling out his keys to lock the door.

Sophie was buckled in, with her blanket in hand and remained quiet for the thirty minutes that it took to get to the office. It gave Gillian some much needed quiet and time to for it all to sink in that she was headed back to the office—her office—and she was bringing Sophie with her; which more or less would bring up questions.

With a sigh, she parked in her usual spot and turned off the engine. When Gillian looked through the rearview mirror to see whether Sophie was asleep or awake, the little girl lit up with a smile as she poked her head up, and kicked her legs back and forth in her seat. She put her blanket over her head, and peered up at her with a giggle. "I see you."

"See ewe" Sophie mimicked, pointing to her reflection in the mirror. "Me out." She protested as Gillian unbuckled herself and grabbed her purse from the passenger seat. "I'll get you out." she told Sophie, then pulled out her ringing phone.

"Gillian Foster."

"Hi Gillian, this is Becky from Dr. Jacobzi's office. I was just calling because Dr. Jacobzi wanted to schedule a follow-up visit for your daughter, Sophie. He just wants to make sure that everything is going well and that there are still no issues with the medication that she's on." Unbuckling her seat, Sophie looked relieved, but held onto her as Gillian tried to put her down.

So with Sophie attached on her hip, they began walking across the parking lot. "When's his next opening?"

"He has an an opening later on today at three, or his earliest opening is tomorrow at ten-thirty." The sound of a crying child caught her attention and Sophie seemed to notice as well.

"Mama, wha' tat?"

"I don't know." Looking around, Gillian couldn't see where the crying was from, but something was tugging at her to find out who it was. "Three should be fine."

"Okay. . . I will put Sophie down for today at three o'clock."

"Thank you."

"See you then." With that, Gillian pocketed her phone back into her pocket, she adjusted Sophie on her hip, and walked around until they reached a white van in the middle of the parking lot. She was prepared to just walk by, until she caught a glance at a desperate looking Albert Juarez trying to coax his granddaughter out of the car.

Her heels clicking against the asphalt got his attention. "Dr. Foster, I'm glad you're here. She won't get out of the car." Quickly reassuring him, Gillian sat on the edge of the car with Sophie in her lap. Elena was sprawled across the backseat; her black hair partially covering her face.

"Elena, it's Gillian."

It took a few seconds, but Elena sat up. "Gillian? What are you doing here?"

"I work here." Gillian exchanged a confused glance with Albert, but he just shrugged back, looking just as confused as she was.

"I told her we were visiting, but I don't think she believed me." Albert explained, standing against the van door.

Elena looked up at her with tears in her eyes. "I thought he would take me to that other lady."

Gillian put it together within a few seconds. "The therapist?"

"Yeah." Elena nodded a few times. "Is that what you are?"

"I'm a pyschologist."

"So a pys...psych-"

"Psychologist "

"So. . . a psychologist isn't a therapist?" Elena wrinkled her nose up in confusion.

"No, a pyschologist—we like to look for the way someone acts or thinks.""

"Oh. Kind of like a doctor?" She released a small smile, as she scooted forward in her seat. It seemed like the ice had been broken and she was warming up to her once more.

"Exactly like a doctor—"

Elena paused hesitantly, not really sure what to expect. "Gillian, If I come in. . . can I see where you work?"

Gillian smiled brightly, holding out her hand. "I think we can arrange that."

"And she can come too?" Elena inquired, pointing to Sophie as they exited the van together. As they walked across the parking lot together, Elena didn't let go of her hand once, until they had walked into the building.

"Dr. Foster. I didn't realize that you were coming in today." Heidi greeted as she stood up from behind the desk.

"I just came for an hour or two. Please make sure that no interrupts?" After Heidi nodded, Gillian led the way down the hall.

Just before they reached her office, Elena stopped hesitantly as she held on tightly to her grandpa's hand. "Elena?"

"This place is so big." She mentioned after a few seconds, and tipped her head to look up at the ceiling.

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><p>Five hours later, Gillian walked in the door with Sophie fast asleep in her arms. Cal had been reading a book on the couch—clearly in wait for their return. As she closed the door with her foot, he quickly bookmarked his place and walked across the room to the lock the door. "You wore her out."<p>

"I think she broke the ice; even having her there in the same room seemed to help Elena relax."

"I wouldn't have expected any less from this one. She's a natural—just like her mother." She looked exhausted, but smiled at the compliment.

"I'm going to put her upstairs." He nodded his understanding as she quickly slipped upstairs. When she returned a few minutes later, she found him standing in the middle of the room with the stereo remote in his hands. She walked down to where he was standing and tried to figure out what he was thinking.

"How good are you at dancing?"

Her eyebrows raised in surprise at his response. "It's been years." She took in a sharp breath realizing what he was asking her to do. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"You just had surgery on Tuesday."

Pushing play, he held his hand out for her to take. "I'm not sitting on that couch for another minute." It took a few moments for the music to begin, but she found herself taking his hand and slowly dancing around the room.

_There you stand, open heart—opened doors,_

_full of life with with a world that's wanting more._

_But I can see when the lights start to fade—_

_the day is done and your smile has gone away. _

"You were waiting all this time—"

"Shh. . .just listen."

_Let me raise you up._

_Let me be your love. _

She didn't try to pull away; couldn't seem to pull together any thoughts as they continued to dance. Her heart seemed to flutter in her chest, and it was then that she realized that this was finally the first time together—alone—since chaos had thrown them through a loophole.

_May I hold you as you fall to sleep?_

_When the world is closing in_

_and you can't breathe here?_

_May I love you? May I be your shield?_

_When no one can be found—_

_may I lay you down?_

_All I want is to keep you safe from the cold;__  
><em>_To give you all that your heart needs the most__._

_Let me raise you up.__  
>L<em>_et me be your love.__  
><em>_May I hold you as you fall to sleep?__  
>W<em>_hen the world is closing in__  
>a<em>_nd you can't breathe here?__  
><em>_May I love you? May I be your shield?__  
>W<em>_hen no one can be found—__  
>m<em>_ay I lay you down__?_

_All that's made me is all worth trading,__  
>j<em>_ust to have one moment with you.__  
><em>_So I will let go with all that I know;__  
>k<em>_nowing that you're here with me. __  
><em>_For your love is changing me.__May I hold you as you fall to sleep?__  
><em>_When the world is closing in__  
><em>_And you can't breathe?__  
><em>_May I love you, may I be your shield__  
><em>_When no one can be found__  
><em>_May I lay you down__?_

Her thoughts flashed back to her attack when he had held her in his arms; the black asphalt cold against her skin. A car screeched down the street and doors slammed closed a few seconds later. One pair of footsteps ran past her, while the other didn't—and it terrified her, until she realized that it was him holding her in his arms. He never seemed to let go when the ambulance had arrived; not until the doctor told him that he had to wait in the waiting room.

He had been torn to leave her, to take a case that he knew couldn't be ignored when Sophie had gotten sick. Against her best wishes to stay within the line, he had carried her to his house instead of taking her house to be alone.

And when they had both finally woken to a blackened world, that threatened to take them away from the things that they loved most, was when they had finally made it home—alone. No distractions or interruptions; just a passion of hunger and love as their lips locked together until long after the music ended.

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><p>And there it is... the final chapter. Thank you to all those who have read and reviewed-most of all those who have supported and gone through this journey with me. Even though this story is now over-the story itself is not over. Be looking for the sequel "All This Time" in the near future.<p> 


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